The Lost

--I feel like this needs another stanza, maybe, or do you think it is ok as is?-- Red rust frames the terrors of lost truth Razors slice the sound to inflict pain, Bouyant demons making all prayer moot Blood boils to ashes inside your veins. Murder of crows about your head doth screech Chanting lies from their treacherous beaks, Haunted horns do the shadows beseech The other church, haven for the freaks. Nurture the bells to chime about your fears Tears on cheeks play chords, mourn for the light, The way is closed, damned shall march in pairs Mock the pious with Samael in the night. The rotted cogs of death slowly spin Creaking notes of torment as they go, Eternal longing swept in shrouds of sin The demon speaks, drown the tears of woe.

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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