PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Living with pain is the curse of my soul;

the Grand Architect told me I was a poet

before my time, my words too never die;

the devil and I made a pact...

curse mankind, evoke and deliver the

Antichrist- From the dark side of the

moon to the coldest side of the sun, I

radiate heat with a cold heart....cursed be

thy name upon all that is holy and

righteous- momentary lapse in reason are

now regular relapses without reason or

'idea of,' no point intended....

To those whom an apology is owed; you

will not get it from me. Curses upon thee,

those who deny me, creator of criticism;

when all else fails my soul prevails. My

writings cannot be constructively

critiqued, for I tell it like it is, similar to a

deadly disease you know it's spreading

manifesting its potency until you are fully

engaged or comfortably numb. A bad

omen foretold me of the curses to come,

including the birth of my first child; a

blessing I have yet to witness....only

embarrassment towards my child's mother;

I am the curse in her life, the agony of her

lament, and the poet she wishes never met.

Invocations of malice and melancholy;

happiness will be death, malignant in nature.

Each and everyone, yes, you the reader,

life's dreamer, has a story to tell, hold that

thought, mine is better, and only I can tell it

well. Forgiveness is best to ask than

permission; neither do I ask for, I am absolute,

soon to rule over biblical fanatics, fucken

hallelujah!! 

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