A Saints Rage.

Would you have the blunt audacity

To shame my words

And call my poetry unsatisfactory?

I should have you know,

Playing both cards, Chaos in my right, creativity in my left.

You couldn’t even handle my creative arsenal.

It’s like heaven and hell

And I’m your favorite cardinal.

A las, I masquerade the shadows and the light.

So cower in bright, or fright which ever it may be.

I’ll find you

And I won’t end it,

Painlessly.

I could fabricate your truest fantasys

And rip them away from you

Show you the worlds ultimate pleasure

Weigh your lies against a feather.

I can enter worlds of which you could never know.

I can lurk in your dreams and play in your sand

Rip your seams and crush the bones in your hand.

I’ll give you terrors till the day that you die.

And dreams to haunt your mind

Over the idea of being dead.

Eternity is simply my stopwatch that I move as I please.

I shall decay your entire being with old age and plague you with disease.

And I will continue, lifelessly so I may relive again

By Tommy Turner