Friday, November 14, 2008
cold emptiness forms around me,
a black cloak of shameful impurity
The Darkness knows my middle name.
It calls me out.
prophet of my own demise
still, I weep
still, I long
for one shred of your uncaring existence
I would never have left You
I reach for nothing.
The shattered pieces of my abandoned soul rain down like drops of blood from a mortal wound.
The world will know of my pain.
It will shower in the pure majestic bliss of my eternal Misery.
You will feel my loss
Im the Silent Warrior of All that is Love.
My kingdom come.
My will be done.
Upon your knees.
Yes, Im sorry too...
Photo of The Preacher