Cold Day in Hell

The cold midnight essence,

of a warm summer's day,

fills my lungs with satisfaction.

The cold day you rot in hell

will be the first of many,

including my own.

Hatred seems the only sollution.

Then the summer light keeps

the dark essence at bay,

for the soon to be cold day rises.

"Rot in hell, for all I care."
I say, one warm summer morn.

In truth, I am lying;

I do care.

Keep my love and soul close by,

for some day I will return,

From my cold day in hell.