My skin

I thirsted along the landscape where the sun baked
My skin into a mold of confessions,I ask not
I dare cry fore ,I beg to bleed my death to hang
My head from a nuese  filled with a disease
I gathered from the halos broken as I slaughter
the angels rights,cursing if so a birth stolen
from the sulfur I spit mocked the gods cries
For their halfbreed solace constructed a mountain
High to crumble,as my tenure of beauty as a tedious
Crock of sadden seances ,searching  for the death
Of self righteous breaths wasted in the paranormal
sighs chaffing my belief that I was the god left
to flounder upon the beauty of lucifer ,yet blaze a
psalm as judas dressed himself as a saint awhile
My skin bakes to a hard boil ,plaguing my blood
stained sorrow six feet from six havens colored
In six shades of an angels wound as iI scattered along
the lands of my breed.