Death Immaculate

O fathers of the wildest nightmares that are soon to pour like the darkest rain all around this

servant

Who stained his credibility by the bloody deed to feed only the hunger of one

And who therefore stole from the tree that bare the

Fruits and truths that were meant to feed the needs of many

Take from me now, what you see as wrong but don't leave!

The contours of the light that once shone all around you

I cannot see anymore, I hunger for death immaculate

You may believe that you rule me, but wham are you to say that by the amount of rewards

I have earned on this earth, you are given the first of nights and might to judge me?

For the treat called sympathy, do not speak to me, for of her dignity I have seen none!

But if such a blessing may be given. And for all of her worth, then let me have some!

Lend me now, a beggar soon to come, a penny

To quench his thirst for life, or at least a tiny fraction of what you so proudly speak of to be

your mercy!

Or am I for all the regrets you are meant to forget?

From the corned I am trapped in, it has never shone so clear to light that you were, it did never

touch me!

My soul, to be a hell for eternal prayers of dying

Yes, for I am destined to become an outcast

The soothing saviour for all kith and kin

To lay their plagues and feverish guilt next to

My body, to be the deepest of graves for all living to fall into

An earthy abyss for all harlots, and their likes to copulate

And with me they shall fester in the grime and gutter

And give praise and warning to what still is unseen

Our pipes to sing our sin called sympathy

In harmony to celebrate to dying of vitality

And to become the manifestation of all

Haunting visions of earlier agening forever

We are the performers of the same play

An death over and over again

Every time the curtain is lifted

We reach nearer towards the end

So it has been, and so it shall be for all eternity

Most humble, and thankful, I have served but by this

I have learned, I was strapped to the plaugh

And the irony of the reward I had yet to achieve

Was to be mowed down by the scythe!

Now I see; the knife I hold is not meant for me

The damage you tried to escape wasd already done!