The Jubilee Of My Deadly Trilogy Poem by Alvin Parkinson

From the depths of hell where their chronicles is place for facts
If you step in the cell expect no humane from the three packs
One desiccates the soil with rapture so it can ablate its own burden
The other ablates the riches and gold from others and put it on its own curtain

And the last one holds its own fate and destiny in its hand and believes it will never slip away
When the truth is that its destiny and fate is soon to be slay
But now the present has came where the trilogy are united and are jubilant
Fellow-shipping together as one, minimizing the virtue to an ant

They drink blood they eat the flesh of the corpse with no soul
Rejoice in the lake of lava and been active since the book of the old
The independence celebration of the three-wicked monster that brings death
I’m trying to flee from them but they’re both right and left

This setting should be call the valley of sin where the three has broke free from its cave
And on a mission with ambition to send the existence to the grave
Ready to devour with its wrath so its wrath won’t trouble it no more
Trying to accomplish the best with its own work trying to be now, is, and before

Gaining all but giving not a thread plus gaining extra
All mix like a potion and having a feast
In deep constant praise for their goddess the beast
A trilogy of disaster sour as the buffalo meat

Bitter as beer and for the bottle it stays tasteless
And the bottle always over flows with liquid and is waste less
The three misfortunes that bothers me the most
In excitement and delightful, murder is all that they wrote