End

End

A Poem by The Chosen

When the bodies begin to rot. 
Old religions all forgot.
When the dark lord rises in the sky.
Hail Satan will be our cry. 

© 2013 The Chosen


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Added on September 12, 2013
Last Updated on September 12, 2013

Author

The Chosen
The Chosen

Columbus, OH



About
I love music. I play the electric and stand up bass. i have a strange habit of turning all my poems into something morbid or depressing. It's not bad, I just can't seem to write happy poems. more..