Mylz Tha Damned
We are down here. Down here we all float. In the belly of the beast, in case you ain’t know. They call this place Hell. I’ve come to call it home. If you’re scared go to church. I’m where the wild things roam. OMG. Thee ambitions of the chief. To gain the whole world, and give it back to my peeps. For a vision I’m crying. Sing me a whiskey lullaby. I feel like dying. Speaking in hidden messages. Or flat out demonic tongues. Cast down the stairway to heaven, ‘cause I was the one plucking angels feathers. Just to wear them in my hair. Dub me unforgiven, ask me if I care. Demonized, in spirituality blinded eyes. Is why I embrace my damnation. Sad Satan, may I have this this dance, in the pale of the moonlight, and I’ll be like. It’s better to reign in Hell, than to appease a jealous God. What can I say, I’m and NDN outlaw. Glutton for forbidden fruits and all. Yet more blasphemies have been committed, in self-righteous superiority of religion. Zealots on a mission. To cast the first stone. Then by those judged infidel and satanic. Granted, I’m into necromancy like the Catholics, and occult practices. Beliefs being born in sin you can have it. Reflecting on your His-story, I understand it. Rather than be extorted, I’ll take my chances and continue these ghost dances.
See all poetry for Daniel Thomas #12242-273