Hell Within An Angry Society
(Carmen)
It's as red as as stoplight, yet stops relationships cold, as green. I once saw a boy walking down the street, with that glow around him. Yet this was not a boy, this was the devil. His eyes glowered with every step, his pace was slow and painful. Every aching breath he took stained the very wind, and everyone that breathed it fell in despair. The user wanted it more then any desire, it had composed itself and rewashed over the user. The user begged for mercy as it overcame him, but even as he ran away, he wanted it more than his next best friend, society. Bashed it became, so ugly and runny it made him trip up, made him fall. Whirling around this man's head was a sign, so vague yet so clear, it made him twitch from the past. This man, this devil, the one the preacher calls hell, is anger. For even as that man shall fall, all that pass will not stop, for he has shown all that pass, that hell is nearer then the way upstairs. It's right here, beside where thy lay. Beside the boy that was society, for anger is so near. Even the wind is shaking, as it seems to twine. And all throughout the halls, a breath becomes a gasp, as hell consumes the wicked, of which none shall pass.
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