Mister B.'s Gone
Sitting quietly on a shelf gathering dust,
The world to me is lost.
Waiting for my world for burn,
Eyebrowless brows twitch and turn.
Never thought the door would open,
A humans face consuming every word spoken.
"Burn this book! Burn this book!"
Hoping, dreading for my freedom,
Never achieving this, my kingdom.
Human minds too fucking greedy,
Oh demonation I'm so needy.
In this, this world Above.
Compressed in 248 pages,
Unliving this unlife though out the ages.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own 'Mister B. Gone' this wanting book belongs to Clive Barker.