Last of the Demons

Why are they So full of hate They see me like I'm the last of the demons Pointing their fingers Without any reason As if my existence is Taken as treason Detesting with malice It's they who are tragic Choke on your blood If you're hating I've had it Crossing my path Disappear you like magick My mind is a house and There's ghosts in the attic Fakest of friends Make the fiercest of fiends Lest we forget No honor among thieves Next time I'm jacked I'll be having em bleed I've got nothing to lose Nowhere to be free Pestilence reeks in my Words that are seized By the 9 Kings of Hell Commandeering your fleets Lay you to rest In your bulletproof vest As you draw your last breath For the Angel of Death Point all your rage You can't take me away My brain is unchained and My soul is uncaged Pitiful efforts to Enter my mind Will be met with the Fires where demons fly high Turning my eyes to The blackened red sky As I live with the purpose To know I must die Living each day with More questions and Sensing the tips of my fingers With vengeance collecting Walking unseen as I live in the shadows Companions are corpses on Ground that is hallowed If you think I'm depressed It's you who are shallow I'm one with the Ghosts and the Tombstones and gallows Treading the path of Misunderstood sinners Floating on liquor that's Mixed with painkillers Pleasure and pain Always one and the same Because money and drugs Have us acting like slaves