Call me weak
And you're a stupid fool
Only a complete mouse brain
Would get under my pelt
I sharpen my claws
On the bones of cats each day
If you have a debt
You better pay
Or I will have something to say
I had a dream once
That I would die
Killed by the claws and fangs
Of my own blood
A cat of fire
With a heart of stone
But dreams are dreams
Nothing comes after this life
That's why I kill,
So I might live one more night
My name is Scourge
And you are dead
What do you think of me making a poem book (and by book I mean a story with all my poems?)
~moSSShine~