Breathing Ghost.

He was sent to hell,

After he had died in cell,

He breathe fire like a igneous dragon,

His face is liken to a gorgon.

Life was so hard when he was alive,

He moves around with poverty and problems in hive,

He shares bed with robust bedbugs,

His fag wardrobe is filled with mad's togs.

 Despite, His riches in poverty, he was holy demon,

He walks quietly like an ant, his life is simple,

But his grandsire is a great daemon,

And he chose to be a wholly holy demon with dimple.

He never begged for loaf on the road,

All his life is based on poverty's load,

Laid at the corner of his heart,

His heart can't do apart

with the load.

One sunlight, A certain purple cheated him,

While he was singing his exiguity's hymn,

He took the purple to the friend of common man,

But his friend became his worst enemy

At that moment, his black skin turned tan.

He was led to cell,

Where men from depth of hell dwell,

He became servant of supreme devil in cell,

He couldn't bell anyone;

He has no seed.

He developed pernicious disease,

Blood accomplished his cough,

He knew his grave is nigh,

But he promised not to leave the purple at ease.

He assumed room temperature,

His corpse was disposed to noxious river

But he never forgive the purple,

His death summoned a thunderous rain

striking the purple to a wretched red,

He has risen from hell to revenge.