MR.apocalypse

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

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

 

  • Author: Mr,apocalapse (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 22nd, 2022 17:07
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views:

Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    'but when their face is covered their sacrifice is forgot'..
    such a profound line
    thanks for sharing



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.