Your Last Dying Wish

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Riddles  |  House: Booksie Classic

This poem expresses hate towards someone and at the same time shows some reasoning for my athiesm...

I take the bloodly blade I hold,

I press it tightly to your guilt stained skin,

I take a breath and slit your throat

 

The death of you shall not go unthanked

It shall be praised and written in the storms

 

You think you have a God to pitty you

You feel you have a home in Heaven

 

Well honey you're wrong

 

I robbed the face of the lord,

and took hold of his throne

I give the orders,

I ruin the lives of all who betray me

 

I say you deserve to die

I say let your demise peace my pillow

 

You told me,

to tell the few you love,

that you'll see them soon

But you choke on dirt outlining your grave,

as it seeps into your lungs

 

Just fade away,

without dragging behind more beaten souls

Just get out,

without cutting tears from their eyelids

Just die again,

without praising hope for a non-existent saviour


Submitted: April 09, 2012

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