deepundergroundpoetry.com
- - - BLACK DECEMBER RETURNS - - -
The cold invades the pre-season gloom
As the bells jingle a morbid tune
God damn your Christmas graces
'Tis infectious for those yet to mourn
The blighted trees holiday adorned
God Damn your merry faces
Renowned, a Scrooge and therefore a Scourge
To exist, gladly, beside the purge
Wrap me in black tinsel
A burial shroud wound 'round my tomb
Sing me a carol of coming doom
Sung by thy gothic minstrels
I HATE!
Your spirit and egg nog
And cold Christmas morn
I HATE!
Your years twisted in throes
Of Christmas mourn
Red wine flows like freshly spilt blood
Reminding me of funerals in the rain
Winds lashing against laments
Wracking sobs until tears are spent
Black December has left a stain
My hate is no secret, yes, 'tis true
A bag of shit is too good for you
God damn all your well wishes
Ornaments of skulls on Christmas limbs
When Black Christmas returns again
God damn ye sons a bitches
I HATE!
Your spirit and egg nog
And cold Christmas morn
I HATE!
Your years twisted in throes
Of Christmas mourn
FUCK YOU!
The gathering of sheep
And grave Christmas morn
FUCK YOU!
And your empty spirit
Of Christmas mourn
Red wine flows like freshly spilt blood
Reminding me of funerals in the rain
Winds lashing against laments
Wracking sobs until tears are spent
Black December has left a stain
(c) 2015 Frank Green
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