deepundergroundpoetry.com
2 A.M.
Along a narrow, vacant street at 2 a.m.
Underneath the threatening lights of peril
An act of fellatio was taking place between
A beautiful cigarette and the orifice of my lips
Halloween had not yet dawned upon us
Yet as I walk Jack-O-Lanterns smile at me
Displaying minor quakes of bloodthirsty evil
While a serum of scorn soaks my tongue
With a heartless trick of ice, cold malice
Summoning the entire town to its kneecaps
Devils regurgitate lullabies resembling the sound
Of nails raping a chalkboard sparing no mercy
Arousing the hopeless romantics
To awaken a graveyard
And fuck the corpses until they're
Resurrected from their comas
As the nymphomaniacs ice
Their frozen flesh with semen
Painting an ocean of abstract thoughts
Across the edges of their frames of mind
Do morticians make up the majority
Of necrophilia related crimes?
Maybe so but, I bet they had never felt
A vagina so dry and so cold
Yet still the thrill of chills tickle these criminal's spines
While they measure their screams careful not to awaken
The beautifully disgusting corpses that lie before them
They turn their heads only to find a pair of scarlet eyes
Gawking at them from within a cowardly shield of fear
Darkness was it's home, Mother to all its desires
In my opinion it was just a phase; A massacre encaged
Underneath the threatening lights of peril
An act of fellatio was taking place between
A beautiful cigarette and the orifice of my lips
Halloween had not yet dawned upon us
Yet as I walk Jack-O-Lanterns smile at me
Displaying minor quakes of bloodthirsty evil
While a serum of scorn soaks my tongue
With a heartless trick of ice, cold malice
Summoning the entire town to its kneecaps
Devils regurgitate lullabies resembling the sound
Of nails raping a chalkboard sparing no mercy
Arousing the hopeless romantics
To awaken a graveyard
And fuck the corpses until they're
Resurrected from their comas
As the nymphomaniacs ice
Their frozen flesh with semen
Painting an ocean of abstract thoughts
Across the edges of their frames of mind
Do morticians make up the majority
Of necrophilia related crimes?
Maybe so but, I bet they had never felt
A vagina so dry and so cold
Yet still the thrill of chills tickle these criminal's spines
While they measure their screams careful not to awaken
The beautifully disgusting corpses that lie before them
They turn their heads only to find a pair of scarlet eyes
Gawking at them from within a cowardly shield of fear
Darkness was it's home, Mother to all its desires
In my opinion it was just a phase; A massacre encaged
Published 7th Jul 2011
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