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by kismet Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Opinion · #894885
lights out
The Reaper of the second death
Will come to claim
Those who remain....


Time passes slowly by
As we hear the cries
Of those who sold their souls
And walk with lifeless eyes.
We are their children
We are the cursed
We live in torment
And kill for blood
To quench our thirst.


We watch, as they
Crucify the non-believers
While enslaving the minds
Of their worshippers
Rightous men
Brought down by their sins
Brother against brother
As they turn to kill another


Two thousand years ago
He warned us all
But we've failed his call
Could have seen the signs
If our eyes weren't blind
Instead we chose to embrace
The wicked blade
Of this bloody masquerade

This is the end, my friend
Time has come to claim its vow
Their power reigns supreme
And you cannot be redeemed
It's too late to make amends
For this is indeed the end
My beautiful friend.

© Copyright 2004 kismet (kismet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/894885-In-the-End