Essence stolen away from

the presence of my heart. Endgame

what we call this time. Reclamation

of mine heart is nil, becoming

ill my mind, shadowed by madness,

hallowed by my dire sadness.

Is it true what they say

when we pray to God,

he reaches down to mend our sorrows?

I pity not the believers

but the deceivers, who's must needs

rape our emotions and leave

us with notions of our own

wrong doing.



There is no life or death,

only absence of self

in our eternal hell.

07/12/2011