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Pinhead Blues

Entered in Krosgood's Hell Came Knocking comp

"They're not pins," he insists, "they're NAILS!"
Perhaps so, but they've rusted
And appear to have loosened
Some disengage from the grid of his scalp
And fall to the Inferno's floor
But it's cosmetic, no disgrace
Not likely to slow him down
Mr. P's eye is on the Throne
Where Satan sits in his complacency
With little regard for Hell's future
Or the fate of all mankind
No, his royal sloth will not be tolerated
And NAILhead, proud, defiant, bold
Increasingly pissed off and petulant
May one day reign supreme
Triumphant over both cross and hammer
And knowing, full well, how to raise some Hell.

(Inspired by Clive Barker's "The Scarlet Gospels")  
Written by crowfly
Published
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