For Nina Simone Poem by Madrason .

Hell is becoming well for some of us
like a fire place without a friend
but the heat makes one forget
let go those memories in
your head and sweat
blesseth sin and go to bed
with a stranger on the other side
ride with her or make him feel and be aware
touch that snare before it turns
stroke that hair before it burns
Oh Lucifer.......
linger unto me the possibility
of feeling naughty out of sentiment
make me linger and without repent
in a moments urge for oxygen
hit me just before I'm lit
and I need to run again! M