burn in hell

to hell with you
your tarsoaked innuendo
visceral leanings
with indecent scripture
covered in the grime
of too many
back alley dealings
in the form
of hypodermic wherewithal

burn in hell
with all the other
quasi-humanoid fiends
that suckle on the teat
of tomorrow
while ravaging
the days gone
in a pathetic gasp
at commonality
with non cold blooded types

take your dreamwicker
your scaled flesh
the oily sheen
upon an upper lip
ill suited for anything more
than resting on the anus
of your betters
straight to the depths
of whatever hell
you were born to


9 thoughts on “burn in hell

        1. i hate to ruin it, but no one in particular. it just kind of poured out. i guess we all know someone that fits the description. before bed i try and write at least two poems and have zero control over content. just open myself to be a conduit.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Yes. I assumed it wasn’t about anyone in particular for you the writer. I just meant that the poem makes me curious about the person. Hard to explain, I guess.


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