No one has come back from Hell to tell us what it’s like.. all we can do is imagine what horrors it holds.

If I could rap, dis be a rap.

This is another one about the band…it’s about some alters and partly about something in my horror novel.

Inspiration.

The night was cold, the fog left barely see the moonlight on the trees, which seemed far darker black spots on forms.

Short stories.

Poem about drugs.

Yes it is.

A poem expressing the odd feeling of simply every day life while hallucinating on narcotics.