Monday, March 23, 2009


A cloudy gray sky swollen with rain.
The vagrant's wiles did make him gain
The home he wished for, a place in hell.
Scathing fires and boiling oil in the wells.
Screaming souls tortured and raped,
The perpetrators in billowing cloaks draped.
The vagrant smiled in memory of his sorrows great,
An accessory to murder: his ultimate fate.

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