Kill...or be killed...
For your roots...and this land...
(Living for the unknown Ancient ones...)
Blood of faith...stains our hands..
Ancient mystic words misled me...
They reached my hidden innocence,
So the sweetest moments of
A perfect beauty, turned to
the hours of the deepest despair.
I'm nothing but a shattered soul...
Cannot see...
Been ravaged by the chaotic beauty!
Ruined by the unreal temptations...
Cannot flee...
I was betrayed by my own beliefs
And my heart betrayed all dead emotions...
I could hear my breath
even if I did not breathe.
Now the changing tides wash over me...
& the living breath breezes through me..
I can recall the sweet symphonies
of my lost side, filling my dreams
With enchanting auras.
But the sweet days of delight
were buried in dust
On the battle fields with unholy horses.
Sometimes blood paints all
& we can't see the colours
Sometimes the blood of faith
stains our hands ...& fills our unholy grails
I can feel the warmth
of those brightest nights.
But the shadows still haunt my heart.
Over and over again
replaying cosmic dramas in my mind.
dying in my arms?
A