Sick Power - Poem by Lance Carthen
To the sex god... I hail to thee.
To the high god... I do believe.
In my fantasies... Deep in dreams.
Crystal lines... to please thee.
There's a feeling inside.
Something left behind.
With no place to go.
Pricking your soul.
I see the halo's crossing.
Sex and heaven are now bonding.
The deeper inside it grows.
Its the devils bomb.
Waiting to explode.
To the death god... Hear me please.
From the drug god... There's no release.
In reality... Spilling in my dreams.
Were so innocent... When your the king.
What can you do but look away?
Hide inside, your secret place.
The little voice's speak.
Sadness in what they say.
I've never seen them.
But they never go away.
Comments about Sick Power by Lance Carthen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl