When deeply in madness, we place our trust in intuition,
We are one step closer to a dark realm,
Where there is only one form of tuition:
Through a paper with a blood trail.
A seed lost to the devil's bidding,
Blossomed from nothing, gone to nothing,
It made no difference who we once were - the dead or the living.
We are only slipping into the inferno's land...
Meeting the one with horns, barking his orders,
Looking into his twisted eyes of deceptive creed,
I see chaos, dishonesty, an evil siege,
But also the one's before me, in folders up and under.
What have I done, to glimpse this devil's reign?
Why I saw my dear soul given to worship him at vein?
To feel only the cries and sadness of all to come,
Could it be so we would change
And walk towards the path shown by the Son?
Fall and rise, to grow from your past,
There will always be a temple's path to redemption.
And toss afar from us the temptations' snake
And follow through your lane to salvation.
YOU ARE READING
Spiral Lights: Into the Unknown
Poetry"The healthy dead had once walked alive, only to turn a lifetime into a year. Fitting insanity into a needed tide and loom at its great love to fear. So remember the day, remember the night, Flowing, but lifeless, yet bright. Walking beside you, un...
