Grace

Woe to that day I was given birth to if I'm only gonna be sticks or fuel to exacerbate the flames of hades,
I fickle easily to viles at the pickle of receptive evil.
Dead is inevitable,
So I hold on to this fate like a pilgrim of
purgatory.
I do not fear dead,
It had better dread the potentials I've got.
Horror is a tickle in my ampit,
Vampires had better suck me dead- I'm not
moved,
I fear no pain,
Not even the torture of an assasin,
The Face of the devil scares me not.
I'm ready to lose my;
Power,
Fame,
Money,
Health and everything else,
They all vanity upon vanity,
They are like chasing shadows.
I heard the last shall be the first and vice versa,
I so believe in divinity....
Divinity is pro'bly cryptical or mystified,
I'm opened up to it anyway.
I'm no saint,
But forgiveness is granted to even the vilest of
all, And even a dying devil is sanctified when he pleads for forgiveness,
Living saints have fallen off sanctification
b'cause of lil' wrong done before death.
I fear,
I dread,
I'm scared and
I'm afraid if I won't be granted the grace to ask for forgiveness before I die,
I curse my life if I'll be condemned to enternal
torment.
God forbid the whiles for me,
I'm so evil,
But I hope to stand faultless before the throne of mercy.