Love

An apparition of a thousand undead doves 
Wildly spun in a spiral of crimson-silver, 
Blood oozing down its magical husk of frozen drool. 
The swirling figure of a man forms, 
He focuses the lights from hell into his heart 
To make him worthy of this world. 
He sees a boneyard, dark and cold. 
Ghastly figures dance and scream in joyful sorrow. 
White skulls that stack in piles eerily start bleeding. 
Eye sockets start pouring, inside lights are shining. 
He is not one of these at the genesis. 
He is drowning upon this bastion of inverse. 
Yearning for a soft touch of a mother, 
A guiding hand of a father. 
Thrown into this abysmal reality, he stands alone 
To become hard, to focus all that he can't be, 
All the reasons why he can't be loved, 
Into his heart, 
To Drown. 
~ My liefde vir jou was soos bloed ~ 
~ En jou haat was soos 'n silwer swaard. ~ 
:)

Drowning in his own Blood.