Poetry from a Poisoned Mind - Armagedda

The stench from the forest

Of burning skin

Bringing memories back

From ancient Sacrifices

It has been centuries

Since I left my body

But I still live

Through the sound of torture

My sense falls to the depths of

Filth, pain and suffering

Which is feeding my inspiration

To my art of undead human corpse sculpture

I taste the evil

To satisfy my mental hunger

If I wasn’t immortal I would be dead (again)

For the last time

No one will ever know

What it was that swallowed eternity

A shadow will come from the past

And take me