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Image for the poem He

He's Coming for Us

I hear whispers,
Many voices are screaming inside my head.
They chitter, they chatter,
Most of them don't even know their dead.

There's one who exibits such great power.
He goes around giving me orders,
and telling me what to do.
And if I don't listen,
I wake up with my skin, black and blue.

They take me for their toy,
I'm an unwilling host.
I'm a reluctant messenger,
of a dark presense, and he's says,
He's coming for us.
Written by PsychicApocalypse (Darker Half)
Published
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