Approaching the first sign of hell.
An instrument of the baby tell.
I receive the blood in a Limbo womb .
An embryo conceived from a cell.
A set life waiting to bloom.
9 months to be stuck inside of a shell.
The first pain of labor revels my doom.
I exit to another Half Life to roam and dwell.
I vanished all excitement in the waiting room.
Abused in my first moment, just to here me yell.
My lungs full of life entering my second tomb.
Yelling my guts to an evil smell.
The smell of entering the Gates of Hell.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
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