PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Lifted up in hope and crushed by thrown mercies
Debtted to pay a life o misery for the one they made me take
And still they mingle and mess with the confines of my sanity
The evil that men do live vile lives that legate endlessly
The sins of the father are paid by the son and
the victim is always the devils kid
My road to hell has been paved with nothing but good intentions
A sickening pleasing crack for every attempt at recovering my lost soul
How effortless the devil veils himself with goodness an illusion of holy
So fleeting that upon entrusting
the curtain to realisation doesn't have time to part, it simply vanishes!
Hell seems so warm from where I am right now
Such an inviting glow, like a moth to a flame it entrances me so
But it can not win me to contempt of this pain, this life
And the tiny bursting seed of hope watered by my own imagination
Though the sun is colder, and the glow oh so mesmerising
I have plenty more good intentions to line my path of soul,
God help me, but maybe god can't save us all,
Maybe we need to save our selves,
ringing in my ears of perfect sanity
I hear the calling of hells bells.