Friday, April 30, 2010

Bad Poetry Part 1: Metropolitan Hell

In addition to fragments of various bits of bad fantasy fiction, I occassionally tried to do the whole rhyming demon thing.

Metropolitian Hell

The skies grow dark like a stygian night
The hearts of men turn away from God
Self sure in their own divine right
People walking the street with dead eyes
Craving death's sweet kiss
While listening to politician lies
Cars honk and howl through the streets
As men, women and children dash from place to place
Some good, some bad, some simply creeps
Hell is not fire and brimstone lakes
Hell is here today
And it's all ours to taste.

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