The Angel’s Grave
The sweet music of still death singing in the cold unrelenting rain,
The morbid tune of engulfing fear humming in the echoing pain,
The cloth of dead conscience so dark that no blood can stain,
The sin so painful and evil that even repentance seems in vain.
The unblinking stare of the cold tombstone has him hypnotized,
The rhythm so unearthly and dreary, that he has been victimized,
The cold fire ate him from the inside-out before he even realized,
The frigid shapeless mist he left in his wake is now dark crystallized.
The black hood he adorns, do nothing to cover his bleeding eyes,
The heart he has locked away, in the abyss of eternity, still cries,
The freezing bones with the burning sceptre in them, as he will rise
Only to be born again in this perpetual spatial rift, once again he dies.
He has no soul to sell to the devil, to sin it has already been sold,
His mind sunk in the ocean of insanity,before his eyes life will unfold,
His body possessed by demonic lust, the smoldering dust turns cold,
His throbbing heart feels no pain, as it turns to frigid, gleaming gold.
In the undulating plains of ignorance, his wisdom is wandering and lost,
In the blazing fires of purgatory, his conscience turns to tenuous frost,
His wings leaden with guilt as he reaches the road he had never crossed,
A halo of blood crowns him, as he once again returns to pay the cost.
He falls to his knees, bleeding, to bow, a final time to his master, as a slave,
In the sea of guilt he takes a final dip as it rushes to meet him in a black wave,
Hoping the nightmares will end, as they never did, he hopes that fate forgave,
With this last hope he closes his cold eyes, and falls down in the angel’s grave.
Posted on September 18, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged abyss, cold embrace, Conscience, dark fantasies, Darkness, Despair, devil, eternity, fate, grave, halo of blood, Longing, lust, Misery, mist, Pain, religion, Scepter, sin, spirituality. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.