Let hell
strike you were it hurts.
Where every
broken promise you made is now a shattered piece of glass entering your
carcass.
And where
every lie is the salt on the wound.
I want you
to know how it feels.
I want you
to cry every night in pure agony.
Having
nothing but the lullaby of your own demented screams to fill the night
For you walk
this earth as a creature of Satan’s own
design.
Yet you are
nothing… isn’t that what you told me?
Or was it
the poison sinking into your blackened veins?
How about
the smell of death filling your decaying lungs?
You have
lost everything to the monster you have indulged with.
And forever
now shall you be just that.
Unloved by
all, you shall die.
Given back
to the ground in which you came.
And never to
arise once more.
Copyright © 2014
Ashlie Pfeifer
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