Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCVI
You've found yourself standing at the gates of Hell, and you're given a typewriter and one page waiting in it. You have one short poem to either keep you out, or shove you in.
Venomous Verisimilitude
Pissing on Mephistopheles’ typewriter, I brought my own pen
Have the cartridge filled with the blood of dead Men
Never had the time for limbo, cause I never made friends
To heed my new enemy need, I had to raise old ones again
I have a cemetery appetite locked in my head
And I feed on the greed of the spenders who lend
I don’t swim, I walk hateful steps on the lakes of revenge
Now I’m here to see if I can actually bleed,
But first my words must cut all the throats in need,
Crying for help from the suicide trees
Then I spit on the concept of lies and deceit
I’m the one who cut out Judas’ own lips to gain control of the speech
And if the gates don’t open I’ll just break the chains
It think it's time I refill my ink now, from Lucifer's veins
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