Split

There once was man who went to jail

Then to hell, and back again

He told this story to a friend

Who told it to another friend

A vicious cycle as the years went by

When suddenly the man

Decided to lie

He never went to hell you see

Jail brough upon him this fantasy

But the story had been told

Him and friend soon grew old

Generations past and the story grew

Yet it wasn’t the one we originally knew

See this man went to jail you see

But soon he decided to bleed

So he slit his wrist

His neck

His eyes

Really this man wanted to die

But then he found himself in hell

But was told that he did not belong there

So back to jail

This man was freed

But between you and me

He never should have left.

A/N this will most likely be continued in another poem since I never actually figured out which version was the truth and which one was the lie. Clearly this has only one version show buuut I got more to say…I think.

God made a promise

How do you see me? Care to pray to bring me closer to you? I have been watching for awhile now but don’t bother hoping that you will be saved. This is a test you need to survive. It is needed for you to succeed in life. Blood on your hands and knees. I love the sounds you make as you grieve. Mock pity as you repent not understanding that you good luck as been spent.

Touch yourself in unholy ways yet beg me to save you on weaker days.

I do not think you know, but this is the way to save your pitiful soul.