Is there life after death for the wicked? The unfortunate find out the answer. |
Written for:
Edge of Time By E C WESCH Evening wears a frowning face, with shadows bathed in tears. Corrupting winds steal the warmth, filling my heart with fears. Laying in this shallow box, "Don't abandon me!" I scream. Reaching out in agony, I pray 'tis but a dream. Sunken are the hollows, where once were carefree eyes, Coined in closure forevermore, now eaten by the flies. Slowly passes the edge of time, lying in this tomb. Striking out for freedom, like a babe in mother's womb. A babe can push and kick out, with tiny hands and feet. But I can only imagine, as I lay beneath this sheet. Escaping into oblivion, is not what I had planned. But greed, fueled by desires, now my life be damned. Shameful was the life I'd led, filled with spiteful lies. Now here, in this pyre of death, no one hears my cries. Shriveled beyond endurance, my skin's now feather thin. Meatless are my features, exposing a Cheshire grin. I lay in pain forevermore, like a smoldering walnut tree. My arms are twisted branches, ablaze in agony. In death there lies a permanence, selfish in its hold. Now Satan draws me tighter, into his family fold. So sure was I of gleaning, the wealth of all I saw. It blinded me to reasons, I wanted more and more. Too late was I to notice, that no one cared 'bout me. Now this empty shell I call my soul...burns for eternity. |