a ritualistic love poem with a somewhat nerdy reference (that 99% of you won't get), please correct any spelling errors and/or sanity..
I bathe my fate in blood and wine
and stain with pain each sacred sign
carved with care and fresh despair
spears of fear thrown into the abyss
of a nightmare repeated, an elvish fiend retreated
into her forest of illusion
silently wielding her weapons of mass confusion
I am her terrorist, I preach death to her sanity
I am the dark voice whispering:
"come follow me.."
I'll show you a world
where love is more than a word
where absinth-minded, newly blinded
creatures dance, a satanic romance
like any angel falling
you will hear me calling:
"come follow me"
a circus travelling
madness unravelling before your eyes
you will witness this sacrifice
of past, present, and future lies
"god" is only a name
he never was a player, and there never was a game
this is a battlefield where I choose to fight
for that which is right
for the darkness in your light
I am the nameless one
come follow me
we don't need some heavenly grace
salvation is achieved with a single embrace
with an honest smile upon your face
we'll rise above this pathetic place called sanity
take my hand
come follow me
Poetry by Michael Dyst
Read 659 times
Written on 2008-02-11 at 15:06
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Blood and wine
I bathe my fate in blood and wine
and stain with pain each sacred sign
carved with care and fresh despair
spears of fear thrown into the abyss
of a nightmare repeated, an elvish fiend retreated
into her forest of illusion
silently wielding her weapons of mass confusion
I am her terrorist, I preach death to her sanity
I am the dark voice whispering:
"come follow me.."
I'll show you a world
where love is more than a word
where absinth-minded, newly blinded
creatures dance, a satanic romance
like any angel falling
you will hear me calling:
"come follow me"
a circus travelling
madness unravelling before your eyes
you will witness this sacrifice
of past, present, and future lies
"god" is only a name
he never was a player, and there never was a game
this is a battlefield where I choose to fight
for that which is right
for the darkness in your light
I am the nameless one
come follow me
we don't need some heavenly grace
salvation is achieved with a single embrace
with an honest smile upon your face
we'll rise above this pathetic place called sanity
take my hand
come follow me
Poetry by Michael Dyst
Read 659 times
Written on 2008-02-11 at 15:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
