Different Styles Here Hope You
Readers Like The Blend.


Laureate

I sat trapped in the back of Satan’s left pocket.
My soul just an artifact, years since I lost it.
Tossed it and labeled it as expired and faithless.
Never conformed and conserved, so I jus wasted.
Demons surrounded me, saturated my flesh.
As bloody hail corrupted the good I had left.
Despair and lost cause rained down from the sky.
As demise slowly climbed and hope declined.
Lightning was crimson and fueled the fire.
As my body lay rotten from sinful desire.



Paranoid

Electrical clocks hit my brain, unable to fit my name.
I lay out excuses, so I follow Simon as I’m to fry fame.
Why do I generate, the lights are out? I feel so terrible.
All the rain, this weather made me steel the horrible.
So I picture the lost scripture, forcin the wind at night.
My mind lost, my crime tossed, sourcin a hint at sight.
Taken all the torched flame, spiritually un described.
God on hand, he was destroyed from the un subscribed.
But at least I touched the storm, so warm I had charm.
Ring the alarm, I’ll buzz the intelligence of bad harm.



Illus' Artis

I'm spiritually in a war against a diabolical form.
Purged and torn. Informed my physical is warned.
Restricted, predicted obstacles, optics still shocked.
Let downs. Mind trapped in a box. Getting mocked.
I've been through it and more, stand, I still through it all.
God's strength, tackled seasons Winter through the Fall.
Due to you, I bleed through objectives that abused,
me physically, mentally and spiritual. Mental arose ,
allude ish that dooms the frail individuals. Was formed
scorned, literally thrown in and Weathered The Storm.