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Angel Of Death
8 March, 2005
Author: Mike

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The angel of death has blood on her hands
Dripping to the ground on which she stands.
Flowing from the gashes on her wrists,
Shrouded in the thickening mist.

How I long to be with this angel of the night.
The crimson rivers on her skin fill me with delight.
How I long to lick and sip the stains off from her skin,
The thought I holdwithin my mind are of nothing but our sins.

Her and I together, the destruction we can cause,
Killing anyone and everyone, for any little flaw.
Fires raging in the towns, the result of her flaming eyes,
I stay with her for one reason - because she cannot lie.

She shows me the world, what it's really like,
Gives me a taste of murder, which I love, I find.
She takes me away with the wind to her castle of death
Where we rule as king and queen, in the place where we know best.

Monsters, zombies, ghosts and ghouls are some thing which she commands,
While I follow in her footsteps, blood of faith stains my hands.
Blood has stopped flowing from her wrists, they now flow from mine,
I am the angel of death now, I have finally crossed the line.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

LBK (84.9.36.131) -- Saturday, March 12 2005, 02:04 am

...

"Killing anyone and everyone, for any little flaw." Don't scare me...And I still think the angel of death is a man ;)
Sarah-Rene (72.26.150.225) -- Monday, May 25 2009, 10:13 pm

Awesome Poem

...Dat poem was da shyt you did a really good job... keep up the good work
Goth gurl 1514 (72.26.150.225) -- Monday, May 25 2009, 10:17 pm

kool

Thats a kool poem reading things like that makes me proud to be emo. i love the Angel of Death... An Thats tha only thing in this whole world tht I love more than my razor.. LOL
 
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