Red, Gore, Blood everywhere,
Lights flickering despair,
pistols, machine guns, in pieces,
each second the fright increases.
Growling, mumbling, in the darkness,
The cry of babies echo in excess.
Scuffling, running, echoes of movement,
They shatter the silence with regress.
A shattered computer monitor,
an overheated thermometer,
an office hit by a tornado,
and a wall blasted by a torpedo.
Through the destroyed wall, everything’s in flames,
Burning desks, floors, walls, twenty-foot-high flames,
Demons smash, kill, maul, in ten-foot-high frames,
They smash through the walls, evil and inhumane.
In this room, on the ground, there are a bunch of guns,
piled into a mound, so high, they reach the sun,
the sight flips up my frown, carefully, I pick one,
grab a few extra rounds, and proceed to have fun.
I walk into the next room and run into a large imp,
I pull a grenade and BOOM!!, yet it only got a limp.
Now I know I might be doomed, if I cannot kill this imp.
If I run away real soon, my reputation will sink.
So I get out my weapon, and shoot it in the head,
I love obliteration, of course it is now dead,
I like my situation, my specialty is dread,
I have infatuation, with killing things of dread.
