Possessing
nought he ventured forth
Greeting
the day with disgust
Ensnared
in patterns leading him north
His heart
enslaved by lust
Possible
solutions he’d glimpsed in dreams
Shed
light on the lives that he’d lost
The pit
of his Id echoing screams
Is
childhood a debt or a cost?
The
twisted blades of fate
Bar
entrance: heavens gate
Too
little, too late
As grief
disperses to pitiless fear
The lone
soul moves into the night
Knowing
pain he evades each tear
Carnivorous
memories force flight
There are
enemies around him here
He can
feel the canine stare
Light
embodies his prisons sphere
A weight
he cannot bare
‘Farewell,’
He cries extracting the blade
‘I know
I am fit for the fire.
And fuck
you god for I seem to be made
For
nought but the source of your ire!’
The
twisted blades of fate
Bar
entrance: heavens gate
Too
little, too late
First
there was pain and then there was blood
And for a
while there was a lot of each
He hurled
himself to the flush of the flood
To lay
tangled in the arms of the beach
