Ghost and his point of view (pt. 18 )

Angry, hungry, blurry
my eyes see only one colour
red, dead, creep
the pain come from the deep
inner hate, inner key to a closed door
poor, chore, gore
tick-tack, beep, click, another beep
not soft sounds, not melodies or music
only bones breaking, ribs piercing lungs
isn’t hell, isn’t heaven, for sure isn’t hell
I do not listen angels or screams from evil
even seven horns of Revelation
no bells, no damn bells
only my inner demon
feeding my angry
that keep growing, strong…
this is the wrong way? How wrong?

only God knows…


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