Death Metal Gods
I was alive and lost in this world of pounding percussion
and growling voices.
Thier sweat made magic
as it pored out
in the many hours of thier lives
spent dedicated to creating the sound of blood, and anger.
I was at home on a platform of inspiration.
I made it my own.
I want to keep that feeling forever.
and growling voices.
Thier sweat made magic
as it pored out
in the many hours of thier lives
spent dedicated to creating the sound of blood, and anger.
I was at home on a platform of inspiration.
I made it my own.
I want to keep that feeling forever.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.