[/align][align=center]Bloody Floors From Cruddy Gore Placed On The Scene
Delt A Fragrance That Peeled Nostrils Once Embraced From A Breeze
Tho Stable it seemed Faces Had Gleamed and gaped upon this cadaver
swaying through God's drift with raw skin disolving in layers
Left Slaughtered In Plain Dirt Was An Author Who Changed Earth
Giving Art To The Brain Of Children..For Thoughts To Remain Terse
Arnold's Unlaundered Grey Shirt Was Stained With The Blood That Was Once Geared
To Write Passionate Of Paths These Kids Uncovered From BLunt Fears
Some Would succumb Tears Reacting To The Outcomes And Tragedies
Whether Clouds Spun On Happy Themes,The Pouts Brung A Max To Means
When Published His books Werent An Average Read More Like Shadowing Life
Into A Capsule Of Strife,Euphoria,Or Maybe Fantasies With Castles And Knights
By Any Chance Probably The Future And What Holds For Our World
Many Chapters Were As Deep As The Pacific Ocean,Creating Poems As Their Pearls
Emotionally Twirled,It Was Like All Focus Altered This Writers Distinct Bed
Where Later He Was Buried By Crowds Who's Tears Ran Similar How His Ink Bled
Just Think Death Could Really Make Someone View Your Green Thumb's Mood In mind
Inspite Of Being A Ruined Idol,The question Is Was The Case Murder?, Or suicide?
Confused With Lines? I wouldnt Want You Fooled Into Stealth
But To Close The Book,The Only Human Arnold Couldnt Reach Out To..Was Himself[/align]
