THE AMBIENT WORLD

Deep in the gothic Lands I find myself, fear, anger, but no more pain, I wield a sword that I can use, yet agains God, to his abuse, it shines in the darkness, it shrouds the light, to kill, no reason to fight. Touch me, dust to dust, a mortals must, shed no grief, as within this, there might be relief. Haveth you ever fought a war, with self, a mirror to spar, how many times have I lost, how many won, yet, togeather, I'm still alone.



Poetry by Golem
Read 483 times
Written on 2007-02-19 at 21:03

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