Blood on my Hands

Slowly there's changes I see
something dark almost cold
Stripping away at my sanity
somehow taking control

Leaving me mentally wasted
like a time bomb ready to go off
Lugging around a shit load of hatred
living in a portable trough

Elapse to where I go completely numb
every thought becomes frightful
Eventually I knew this day would come
entrails to me seem delightful

Listening to victims pleads
laughing hysterically while killing
Love the way each person bleeds
left the night happy, and fulfilling

Trolaan Poem

Copyright © 2014 by Patrick B Vince