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Tales Of Death RowIn a prison by the countryside,
Our group of six is set to die.
In a "family" as that of Charles Manson's,
We are unlike the creeps on that show of Chris Hansen's.
We might have murdered a person or forty-two.
Choked at least six men until they were blue.
Beheaded around twenty others,
And left the heads on the doorsteps of their mothers.
The remaining ten we simply shot,
And burned their bodies on the spot
Our only downfall was a snitch,
And when she returned, her mouth we did stitch.
We dumped her body in the well,
And promised we'd meet again in Hell.
It is only right to introduce us six,
But I must warn you that we are a strange mix.
First up is our dearest Nick,
Don't let his innocence fool you, he's just as sick.
He would collect the dying breaths
Of those a second away from their deaths.
Lined their souls up on the shelf,
He admired them almost as much as himself.
Nick is sentenced to lethal injection
For pain he has no affection.
He sits across from me as I write.
He's lost so
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More