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The butchers consolation (Kyrielle) (Other) by SupremeDreamer
Its distressing, how we all rot; the fate of man, like it or not. Want a cure? then get on your knees, my cold blade will put you at ease. Pray & have faith in god you say? Seek heaven the cowards way? You need not tyrant gods to please, my cold blade will put you at ease. Hapless men avoid all peril, mothers say "shun the devil!". They shall need my dark expertise; my cold blade will put them at ease. Live free & wild- embrace the beast, salvation isn't found in a priest. Fortitude is what you must seize; my cold blade will put you at ease. You should not fear dying alone, there is no crime you must atone. Let me help cure your foul disease; my cold blade will put you at ease.

Up the ladder: Cold Rain Road
Down the ladder: my first poem

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.428571
Weighted score: 5.1152606
Overall Rank: 6006
Posted: May 19, 2004 1:05 AM PDT; Last modified: May 19, 2004 1:05 AM PDT
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Comments:
[0] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 163.1.146.16 | 19-May-04/5:39 AM | Reply
Bulging with a bum-like idiocy.
[n/a] deleted user @ 24.222.81.233 | 19-May-04/1:04 PM | Reply
Are you one of dem serial killers?
[9] zodiac @ 67.240.211.31 | 19-May-04/1:20 PM | Reply
Fails to describe what a tripped-out freak street-poet you are.

-0-
[9] INTRANSIT @ 64.12.116.70 | 5-Jun-04/2:51 PM | Reply
Gangs of New York, all gussied up. Listen and fix the hiccups.
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