Nice Try

Fresh blood is hard to swallow
inside my skull, I feel hollow.
Hands still cling to lifeless threads
eyes still hazy with a million reds.

There's not much left to care about
when you're dead and not devout.
Angels grin and tear you to shreds
and drag you underneath children's beds.

Gods all live and laugh and sing
silencing words so you can't hear a thing
living in black and white and grey
it's times like these you start to pray.

Congrats, though. You're still dead!
Try again and they'll take your head
So be a good soul and come this way
you'll be let out when the walls decay.