Do I have devils in my head? Am I feared for my devilish appearance? Are the horns a dead give-away? Will you burn to talk to me? Run to save your soul, From that image in your head, And the belief in your judgement, Run from your beliefs. Your beliefs will re-appear, In other Devil people, You'll never be free, If you continue to believe.
This is the archive of previous writings of the Opiated Sherpa. It's mostly poetry that dates back to 1997, back when I was a sapling of 16. And then since then... this.