Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Wickedness weaves its volatile thread,

twisting around and around thy throat,

I beg for release,

I cry for peace,

but nothing but the darkness ever comes,

nothing gives me peace from my burning sin,

that slowly eats away at me within,

what sin is this,

what wickedness did I sow,

does it matter,

do you care,

do you really want to know,

for sin can burn the purest heart,

sin can infect,

sin can repeat,

sin can take your life and make it,

incomplete.