I'm sadistically mental, awaiting for the cops to show.
I live in the blood, thats rushing through your veins.
The holy angels fall out of the sky with black burned wings and blood filled eyes then nailed to the ground and left to die your almighty god in heaven cries.
Talk to me, don't read bullshit about me.
Its hard to catch my attention.
Are you calling me mental?
art., Poetry
