Umm...

Umm…

Come little ones, I beseech you,

Fiddle with my brain,

Harness it and comprehend

Fickle ways to entertain.

Little ones, you play hard to get,

I sit alone in this crowd,

Procrastination abates my libido,

And only you ornate it’s shroud.

Little ones, I yawn and crawl,

And the world does seem all dead!

I give way to my stony eyelids,

To slip into my lofty escapade.

Little ones, you’re here I see,

I’ve found you few at last!

You hide in my sad darkness,

And put weird voices in the vast!

Please little ones, do hold on,

I’d shape you steady and slow.

I find myself and a pen, again,

You hide, hey, where’d you go?

Creativity with a bunch of Firearms

Creativity with a bunch of Firearms

Wait and watch, you miserable thing,

Your world goes down, you’d dare to blink?

Scared and crying, you pray to him,

He won’t listen, he’s dead within,

To whom do you turn, in this hornet’s nest?

A voice in your head, “ Just stab your chest”.

Light your torches, burn your house

Shoot your mother, kill your spouse

Abandon hope, show some violence

Throw a molotov, and bring some silence

Undo all, you’ve done your best

Then slit your throat, and take some rest.

You’re of no use, on this Earth

Ran in circles, a meaningless birth

Meaningless verse, obvious rhymes

Die in your filth, and live in your crimes

A bullet to Adam and Eve, you mind?

I’m just Satan, no axe to grind.