Atheist
ANGELS HOLD THE SOULS OF MEN, IN GRASPS OF MOLTEN STEEL.
THEY GAZE UPON US WITH THIRSTY EYES, AND NO HEARTS TO FILL
IF YOU LOOK INTO YOUR SOUL, AS DEEP AS YOU CAN SEE
THE PICTURE OF THE DARKEN MASS, IS WHERE I WILL BE
I'LL WAIT THEY SAY, TILL ALL TIME HAS PASSED
TO SAVE THE REFRAIN, THAT CONCLUDES THE MASS
THE REGUIEM FOR, THE FALLEN HERD
WILL BEGIN ,WITH ONE WORD
SPEAK THE SLANG, OF FOREFATHERS TOUNGUES
WITH ALL THE LANGUAGES, FORGOTTEN AND FAR FLUNG
AND IF YOU FIND, THE WILL TO SEEK
IT'S NOT THE NATURE, OF THE MEEK
YOU'LL CONSUME THE VINE, AND STILL HAVE THE THIRST
THAT CAN'T BE QUINCHED, AND BECOMES THE CURSE
CRY OUT FOR REASON, HEREWITH UNKNOWN
TILL YOUR SURE ,YOUR ALL ALONE
WITH EYES WIDE SHUT, DARKNESS DOES PREVAIL
YOU'LL WONDER AIMLESS, IN SELF MADE HELL
IF STUBBORN LACK OF DEVOTION,IS YOUR DECREE
YOU'LL LIVE IN THE DARKNESS, FOR ETERNITY.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.