The Loneliest Man In Hell
The
rain that falls here is biblical
Hosing
down upon us sinners by an angry God
It
is as much a part of this city's character as the people are
This
city seems like it's cursed, cursed to constantly live under doom and
gloom.
In
my neon signed home
I
am free to be myself
With
my adopted family of fallen angels
To
live up to my fate, to be the loser that I am.
I
sink into drink and watch as sweetness is asphyxiated by bitterness
Not
blinking an eyelid because here I belong
Between
these damp walls it is our den of forgiveness.
Earthquakes
could take down the rest of the city
But
this place would still be standing
And
I know I wouldn't be the loneliest man in hell.
V Topp
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