C. Davis @mrs_mesha_davis
Image by: C. Davis
Prayerfully I beg for sleepless nights, to plague you with unrest.
I pray for ants of fire to penetrate your heart and consume you through your flesh.
I beg of the heavens, to descend themselves down,
So hell will rain fire upon you, burning you to the ground!
I plea that your veins run dry with hard cursed dirt,
But not just for me, but for mine that you have hurt!
Your body, I give eagerly unto the grips of the earth,
So maggots will consume everything you think you’re worth.
Hands you have raised will be severed like limbs,
For you will drown in your very blood, and no longer comfortably swim.
Peace, have you uprooted and have robbed of its time,
Leaving helpless the love of those you so unlovingly left behind.
Words have you expressed, hurtful but without vain,
All for your self-glorification and unwarranted violent pain.
I pray that when you breathe, shards of graves will swallow your lungs,
Until you are devoured by all the wrong you’ve done!
You attempted lies and deceit, just to snuff out my truth,
Yet boldly and courageously, I'ma make it do what it do!
I’ll make a deal with the devil! I’ll pray the heavens down!
I’ll séance Jack the Ripper just to cut you to the ground!
And just when you think you’ll rise, I’ll be there to watch you fall,
And witness the terror on your face when the hellhounds do call.
I lit a black candle, to ensure that what you get,
Is karma on a silver platter served by the devil’s fist!
I urge the shadows of your demons, to haunt you by your side,
So you may suffer paranoia and insanity for the rest of your life!
I’ve petitioned that your path be swarmed with deadly flies,
So you may wander aimlessly in darkness, for your betrayal and deceitful lies.
I beseech the stench of rot, to fill the cavities of your nose,
So that every bloom you ever smell, will never be a rose.
Instead, the stench of death will overwhelm your soul with fear,
And sworn whispers of your demise, will be the last words you’ll ever hear!
You thought that you had beat me, you thought that you had won!
But revenge will become exact when you’re dried up by My Sun!
Break me? Yes, though admittedly you had tried. The fierceness of my ocean’s storm,
Will upsweep you, ravaging you with the tides!
You aimed to paint me ugly, even filled stones into the springs of my well!
But I’ll be there to meet you, after— claws drag you into hell.
Writer's social media:
IG: @DavisCamesha @camesha0216