His own Personal Hell

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A bad man meets his maker and finds his own hell is worse than the one he has been expecting all his life.The usual miserable pleading is assured for the pathetic weakling.Its really harsh in some places not for the faint hearted.Second time I've written this.First I accidentaly deleted the whole thing .Sorry about the mistakes if there are any

Submitted: March 28, 2009

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Submitted: March 28, 2009

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I can't stop dying

Bus a blur around the corner

Foot to early of the curb

Come rumbling at me

I'm pushed of this earth

I can't stop dying

Only a mad man could inflict such totoure

To be stuck with the cassette

On repeat

To find myself

Constantly taking the blow

I'd rather someone

Stick sharpened pineshoots

Up my nails

At least

Then I'd

Know I was alive

I can't stop dying

The old record is jammed

That bus hitting my body

Bam,Bam,BAM

Oh yes I see the results too

My body

Skin twisted in on itself

A big body smear over

The white line

I can't stop dying

Or delete their voices

From my head

The horrified screams

Of those witness's

To the crime

Here come the paramedics

To scrape my remains

Where they are glued

To the asphalt

A blood and gore

Paste

Their eyes will never

Forget

But at least

For them

They don't

See their oven deaths

Over and Over again

I can't stop dying

Where is the button for eject

What have I done to deserve

This totoure ?

Sure I robbed the convience store

But he deserved it

I wanted my cash now

To hear the singing of the till

If only he had listened

Then his brains would'nt have met the end

Of my pet gun

And would'nt be decorated along

The walls of his store

But he was a brave man

Who held his family dear

To his no-longer beating heart

His only love was them

While I had no love

Only the filthy greed

For money

I can't stop dying

Only a wise bearded man

Can break the curse

A red one with horns

And a pitch fork

If this is hell

I pray

For the scorching fairy tale

I can't stop dying

The merry-go-round of horrors

Continues

To put a man through this totoure

To be made insane

With the pain

But I'm not sorry

With all I've done

So

I can't stop dying


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