I've Got Something to Say

I've got something to say,
I must confess,
I gotta get this off my chest,
the words you speak are full of death-
with breath that reeks of decaying flesh.

You peeps are sheep,
following what Society Simon says,
but if we all follow Simon-
we'll all end up dead.

Christ is life,
read the words that are red,
two will go to sleep,
but one will be left in bed.

Kiss and Cure

You take my breath away,
and leave little chance to regain,
like covering one with atmospheres of water,
no chance of seeing the surface,
not even if I strain,

suffering from tunnel vision,
your visage will never wane,
your kiss, the cure, the antidote,
my lips, the poison, the bain.