Blog

The death poem

my hate is made from my Demon in my dreams, devil with blood and spiders creeping up your soul.

I found my hate in a pit of blood shredded Demon ears on top there was heart.

I hate time knock people out and make them scared it can make people choose the devils path and make them unlucky.

If I lose my hate

I’ll always have good dreams and all fight against happiness

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply