I basically write poems, draw, and live. -Morbid Angel-She is the angel with the whitecrusted crown,In her white, torn satin gownA halo of thorns stabs her naive mind,When she turns around he'll stab her from behind.His look of perfection blinds her sight,All of his seen magic makes it hard for her to fight,I was smart enough to put my sunglasses on,But when I looked up he was gone.She has played into his game,Many before her have done the same,Much trouble he has to offer,The book of selfdestruction in her life... well, he is the new author.The magic makes the pain go away,But the destruction it brings will always stay.In her heart the love for it is way too much,My hands try to hold it, but now it burns my touch.So he's the new Morbid Angel in her life,His comforting magic will stab her like a knife.He'll bring the Angel with the white crusted crown's life to an end,Hopefully before then a cry for help to me she'll send.For now I guess I'll let her decay,He'll kill her in the magical bay,Soon enough her body will float out to sea,I'll wait in a boat for her to come back to me.-You Think I'm An Angel?-You think I'm an angel? I write about horror and hell,And darkening poems with stories to tell,You think I am beautifuand fly with white wings?But I wonder who could have told you such things.A halo of thorns stabs my grieving head,Not a glistening white, but a glistening red.My long dress is black; it's ripped and torn,My eyes are evil, my heart is worn.An angel well surely she lives without pain?No crying or screaming or hurting again?No dark whispers that echo so long,I am an angel you say? I'm afraid you were wrong.