Welcome to my house of horror.
I built it on my hell haunted Hill.
It was built from parts of my body,
and my spirit the world chose to kill.
All the pain I held inside of me,
the blueprints for this evil creation.
All of my body's broken bones,
make up the sturdy foundation.
The walls inside are made from
my bruised skin and battered flesh.
Some built when wounds were old,
most built when they were fresh.
Inside the walls are painted with all
of the blood that I've had to shed.
The windows were all shattered by
the silent screaming in my head.
My house is full of violent demons,
and pure evil, their intent you will find.
Is non-stop torture and torment,
until only death is what's on your mind.
You will see the lifetime of all my pain,
in horrifying and unimaginable sites.
You will see all the horrible terrors,
that came to my dreams every night.
You'll the darkness that I was stuck in
and the demons impossible to kill.
They live together with my pain, in
My Horror House on Hell Haunted Hill.
If this house almost stopped your heartbeat,
Or if it tried to take your last breath.
It made you feel what I was feeling,
When the pain had me begging for death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem