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Pyrocidical Productions--It's not just a webpage, it's a website!


The Weekly Tribunal
Neorealism -- the belief of the future
Jocko's Thoughts
What to do when you run out of ideas
Pyrocidical Productions Inc.
The Zero Theory
The news Archives.
Contact Me
When I Rule the World
My domination of the World
Thoughts For WW III
Invasion: skool
Racoon Robs Bank, Mr.T Suspected
Beliefs and Opinions
My Writing or Artwork(updated)
A Day in the Life of Pyrocide
Things to make you think. (updated)
About Me
Movie and Book Reviews
Jocko The Panda
Related Links
My Writing or Artwork(updated)

My creative side...

here is the place where yopu can find out about my newest poems, stories, pic.s, and drawings. so, look and you shall find.

A sunrise; Actual size=300 pixels wide


can't you here him scratching on my wall
he's waiting for me in the hall
he wants to meet me there
then slice through me without a care.

he wants to kill me, dont you see?
hes got me trapped, i cannot flee
ill wait for him inside my room
where ill meet my certain doom

when i peer outside my door
i see a creature from gothic lore.
he has no shape, no form
only eye's of the devil's horn

he stares at me, and i wince in pain
i now understand that pain is his game
i grab and slam the door,
like many, many times before.

i hear his footstep, tap, tap, tap
i place my hands in my lap
i pray for mercy, i try to plea
but i can tell this is it for me.

he's getting close, i can tell
this evil creature spawned from hell
on my bed i rock side to side
knowing there's nowhere i can hide

when he walks in he takes a puff
then i fire i'll engulf
how this feels i think i died
death by fire, it's called pyrocide.


i'm stting here, listening to korn,
then i hear a blast, like a horn.
when i see him, i know i'm dead.
this evil figure, over my head.

i could tell who he was by the sickle.
now i know how life is fragile.
as told, i walk with him through the door,
and i see the burning core.

the flames eat your skin,
only now i know how much crap i'm in.
then, he takes me to the gates.
why of this did i hate?

i stand in the line, and wonder why,
why did she let me die?
she left me, and i feel nomore.
inside my heart was tore.

How could it lead to suicide?
these drugs still won't subside.
heh, didn't know you could be dead and high.
sniff, only few more minutes till i fry.

i'm next in line,and he asks for my pass.
i stare and ask, "what pass?"
he says, "his salvation."
i reply, "ask the reaper, he's my transportation."

then i'm told it's in your spirit.
then hell, i start to fear it.
then everything turns dark.
and fire begins to spark.

my flesh is burning
my stomach is churning.
my head goes into a swirl.
all this for one girl...

this isn't a suicide note,
just something i wrote.
i hope you understand,
that suicide isn't a good plan.


hey, guess what you beer belly boss?
you might have fired me hoss
but im back in your low-tech computer
destroying personal files like a snipe shooter

you should of gave me a raise,
you knew i should have one one of these days.
we have to cut back on spending
so how about i start lending

lending SS numbers and employee checks
you thought i was stupid cause i got peck.s
well youre wrong you lazy alchoholic
i was your only workaholic

now instead of sitting on your fat and lazy behind
all you know is chaos, chaos, running through your mind
now youll forever look over your back
to make sure i just dont attack

i tell you now this is not how it will end,
this is how it will begin.
by the way, i didnt like your shirt with a purple tinge
i dyed it black for some revenge