The Damned My mind is not mine own. It is not something loan It is not something I rent The pastors yell "Repent" But I am a man who dose not believe. They turn to shun me "Then leave ". They say I am possessed . But at night I get plenty of rest. Maybe I am crazy. Or just lazy. The sight of blood gives me pleasure. I dream of flight of dark feathers. Perhaps I am a demon in human skin. I try to think of my sin. Is my existence a bane? if true I will totally go insane. For what reason was I born? The answer may shake me to my very core. An experiment for Satan's entertainment. Or a replacement for his retirement.
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Sienna Williamson
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