deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Unnamed
`~,,~`
In darkest parts of where I am from,
Grass is high, and the winters dry,
In darkest parts of where I came from,
The drum beats on,
Infantry, though dead, are still proud after all these years,
We march, still brave from beyond the grave,
Singing remembrances of glories that we did ride,
And the drums beat on,,
Catching hell upon eternal sky and winds,,,
They are unnamed,
Faces and the names of families left behind,
Possessed by the fallen, sacrificed and eaten
To be whole, once again, in spirit and in name,
The drums beat on
```~~~…~~~```
The unnamed,
They come for you with delight,
To take back to them what is craved for,
They weave a tapestry in us,
Laying claim before we are born
The mortal tapestry of mans winter,
Of mans eternal winter oblivion,
it has been realized, the portal stays there open always,
Baby sacrifices, to appease the dark and violent spirits of Baal, and Malech,
for more power, unto their glory,
the priests lead the service
Diseased and possessed infant flesh are carved up and eaten,
sacrificed to wretched sun gods of greater night,
The cries, their screams into the night, they keep me up past the dawn,
In remembrance of it,
I can still remember them,
Young women raped and stabbed in the eyes,
A game, to see if they can sense who it is violently taking them,
Great sorrows for mothers found expecting in those times,
Done in remembrance of fallen soldiers,
The faces of the women and children, soul sacrificed
To go beyond onto them,
And be one again,
Under deaths household of the eternal warriors of night,
Deaths craving to be whole again
That found is its eternal sting and destination
```~~~...~~~```
In darkest parts of where I am from,
Grass is high, and the winters dry,
In darkest parts of where I came from,
The drum beats on,
Infantry, though dead, are still proud after all these years,
We march, still brave from beyond the grave,
Singing remembrances of glories that we did ride,
And the drums beat on,,
Catching hell upon eternal sky and winds,,,
They are unnamed,
Faces and the names of families left behind,
Possessed by the fallen, sacrificed and eaten
To be whole, once again, in spirit and in name,
The drums beat on
```~~~…~~~```
The unnamed,
They come for you with delight,
To take back to them what is craved for,
They weave a tapestry in us,
Laying claim before we are born
The mortal tapestry of mans winter,
Of mans eternal winter oblivion,
it has been realized, the portal stays there open always,
Baby sacrifices, to appease the dark and violent spirits of Baal, and Malech,
for more power, unto their glory,
the priests lead the service
Diseased and possessed infant flesh are carved up and eaten,
sacrificed to wretched sun gods of greater night,
The cries, their screams into the night, they keep me up past the dawn,
In remembrance of it,
I can still remember them,
Young women raped and stabbed in the eyes,
A game, to see if they can sense who it is violently taking them,
Great sorrows for mothers found expecting in those times,
Done in remembrance of fallen soldiers,
The faces of the women and children, soul sacrificed
To go beyond onto them,
And be one again,
Under deaths household of the eternal warriors of night,
Deaths craving to be whole again
That found is its eternal sting and destination
```~~~...~~~```
Published 11th Oct 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 671
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
11th Oct 2015 8:51pm
<< post removed >>
