The path that I'm walking

Oh red liquid

that flows through my veins.

That lives in the body,

but pours out like rain.

That dwells in a heart

that is already dead,

and carries the thoughts

that subside in my head.

The thoughts in my head

are unusual and cruel.

And continue to come out

like yesterday's gruel.

My heart is as black

as the ominous night.

It hides from the sun

and shuns out the light.

The blood even though,

as red as can be,

no longer wishes

to subside inside me.

I guess you could say

that it's all just as well.

Fore the path that I'm walking,

leads only to hell.


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