Does he walk among the stones?
His soul he left among the tombs
The wind bis at his ears
They whisper to him
He can hear their tears
Trees grab for his glass-like gaze
Slicing the setting sun into violent rays
The torch stands burning in his blood
Pulling down his sleaves
No one cares what he's done
He sings softly to himself
The same old song to forget his guilt
With his silver ribbon
He paints on his tale
The sky reflecting what he holds dear
A crimson wave of passion, raw
His breath is labored as he fights the law
A creed of pain, contract of death
Requires an emptiness
A hollowness he knows strong
He lies his head to the ground
Atop numbing fingers within the fog
Thinking that no one is looking
Is all the proof he needs
To beg for mercy at his knees
He knows he is among his own
The only life he tastes is bitter, cold
Lieing alone among defeat
Just a little harder; his throne
Complete
YOU ARE READING
The Blackened Bible
PoesieThe Blackened Bible is an autobiography using lyrics and poetry. This is the unabridged version, in which the narration has not been removed. "...Let it be known that this is a submersion, an adaptation of a corrupted mind to paper. Come. Read. Let...
