Spit

You have no doubt, So spit it out! The jig is up, Time for you to run, You don't want to be Another "Chosen One" Ruled by the great slime below, Always ready for a show Of human degredation, pain and misery... You don't want to wind up, Like me. corpse rotting From the inside out Dank, dark bones cradled in it's moist rotting grave. Handful clasped with what was once my soul, Meaningless my living toll Was pain in dispicable deeds of harm and hurt Most would say I don't warrent this dirt. For it's too good for me. The Black Arts come, With a Black Art Price, Beware it's appeal, It will bite you twice Walk away from this life And it's devious joys, Heaven holds far richer toys. It will be forever For me to be forgiven For all the misery I have created, Even before the world was populated. Spit it out! Turn around and go! Don't let gold and love, Blind you so! Black Arts come With a Black Art Price Don't fall into the clutches Of your own sick vice.