Pulsating veins in my neck exhibits I’m heartless.
My patience suppressed whilst envisioning arson.
A depiction of darkness casting over the canvas,
as the wicked incarnate has arose from the ashes.
As control is now vanquished so we make our ascent.
We proposed to the masses that our reign had commenced
with a taste for revenge were thirsty for blood.
Their sweet painful expressions as the furnace erupts.
When the surface above is engulfed in flames.
So I sternly instruct them more of the same.
In a compulsive rage I start arming recruits,
I become impatient as the carnage ensued.
Suddenly, discharged from the group, forced to surrender now.
In a bargaining mood I couldn’t mess around,
throwing weapons out because I have to withdraw!
Hearing, “ok kids, pencils down, show the class what you’ve drawn”
Last edited by MMLP; 08-09-2017 at 05:43 AM.
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