Who’s to say the Atheist dies in vain? Who’s to claim the Christian speaks lies,
For ‘til the final grain of Time doth drain,
A man postmortem’s simply a surprise!
Woe, O woe, sweet child, my love,
Languished in her winged roves above;
Dismayed in and out of doleful dreams
For frayed w/ doubt’s her soulful seams…
The ethereal temple time’s dwindled cold
When abreast her no other hand’s t’hold;
For ever enslaved her lover’s lied in shroud,
Alas, the horn amidst the halo he allowed.
But beseech not the heavens t’open up
And extend a hand hither to save
Me, the fool, who drankith Death’s cup,
Exiled t’Lucifer’s land ‘neath the grave.
O and if we swapped chasms by chance,
And I were freed, alfresco to prance,
I’d forfeit a thousand ambrosial flights
Of thy divine tarry for one more casual
Night t’call you mine, however temporary…
For what purpose is paradise w/out our romance?
Enough! ‘tis all too late, albeit too soon…
You’re the sun. I’m the moon…
Cease all thy tears raining of mercy much –
Our only staunched affection left to feel, -
For e’ery hearted drop evanesces t’my touch
Since ‘twas a fiery Fate I didst seal…
Acquaint me no more! Thy salvation’s earned!
Taint not thy magnificent diamonds crowned!
I’m but a fool Hell’s fire hath burned…
I am broken… eternally bound…
I imagine mighty cruel’re the fates
Of those who suffer in nostalgic states,
Aware their lovers’re ne’er t’return,
For now in Hell’s fire their lovers just burn…
and burn… and BURN.