We live on the doorstep
The threshold of the end
Constantly wanting to just walk away
And all you do is sit and cower
Fearful of what lies beyond that door
Of what you will become when you are left alone
Defenseless as you are judged
By the lord of death
And his servants of darkness
But for others
We enjoy the thought of the end
Banging on that door
Happily greeting our monsters on the other side
As they slip us from our coats of chains
And open our eyes to true freedom
We join them of our own wikk
Becoming the angles of death
To serve our new lord
To bring him new servants
To feed his burger for the damned
Their souls delicacies
To our unfillable lust for food
And only when our thirst is slated
Will we pass over
Becoming one with the world
Replaced by yet another empty shell
Waiting to be filled with souls
Happily doing the bidding if their new lord
YOU ARE READING
The Hauntings of My Mind
RandomSo this is my book of poetry. it starts off with a few of my really old poems but I promise you they get better. sorry if the poems are a little depressed or kinda sad, when I write I put my emotions into it and usually I write best when I'm upset...
