Digital drawing · poetry · Theology

NsVs vs NmBs .444z

Who is that on my mind,

Whispering such delight and delicate nonsensical emotional attack.

Telling me that I am righteous,

Shouting at me and gearing my Id to armor up.

Giving me that I can be,

That I could be,

That this should be,

That there would be.

Although I hear in my ear,

Someone saying.

Choose wisely to know,

What is the deal with the muscle that which is none without its soul.

Back off asmodei.

Get away you little beelzebub.

Pesky imps that of Diablo’s counter-mind.

Get out you festering devils,

Get out of my head.


©oliver Melendez

®ohms, artsydhude


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