THIS IS NOT A DRILL Poem, by Mr,apocalapse, at My poetic side

The time has come, the blood must spill

I must repeat this is not a drill

the child cries and won't stop until

the guilty and the innocent has been killed

they body up the bags for the body shall not rot

but when their face is covered their sacrifice is forgot

I won't tell anybody nor do I intend to stop

so as I sang a BANG BANG BANG that's when the body's drop

as I hover on your doorstep ringing the doorbell

I can hear the demons calling out from their burning pits in a hell

but don't be scared just be prepared there's a place for you as well

even though I've dammed your soul you probably shouldn't tell

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THIS IS NOT A DRILL