deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE WRETCHEDNESS OF I
Upon black wings of utter despair
The moon, she shines, with malice and contempt
For this one, the wretchedness of I
Forgive me, Mother
What have I done?
I cannot wash the blood from my hands
They are stained with the dead and the dying
All the sacrifices I’ve made for you
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
Will the blood suffice, that I offer
The river flows crimson just to honor you
I will kill again to slake your thirst
Goddamn me, Mother
What have I done?
Why do we fade into memory?
I can’t help but to think what becomes of us
Thine own son, the wretchedness of I
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
i believe the worst is coming
sooner rather than later
the devil on my shoulders
is at war with the demons
inside that fight for your heart
i will feast on god’s children
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
Worship you, Mother
What have I done?
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
Goddamn me, Mother
What have I done?
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
i believe the worst is coming
sooner rather than later
the devil on my shoulders
is at war with the demons
inside that fight for your heart
i will feast on god’s children
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
I BELIEVE THE WORST IS COMING
SOONER RATHER THAN LATER
THE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDERS
IS AT WAR WITH THE DEMONS
INSIDE THAT FIGHT FOR YOUR HEART
I WILL FEAST ON GOD’S CHILDREN
AND THE TIDES WILL RISE OVER
THE MOUNTAINS OF THE DEAD
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
The moon, she shines, with malice and contempt
For this one, the wretchedness of I
Forgive me, Mother
What have I done?
I cannot wash the blood from my hands
They are stained with the dead and the dying
All the sacrifices I’ve made for you
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
Will the blood suffice, that I offer
The river flows crimson just to honor you
I will kill again to slake your thirst
Goddamn me, Mother
What have I done?
Why do we fade into memory?
I can’t help but to think what becomes of us
Thine own son, the wretchedness of I
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
i believe the worst is coming
sooner rather than later
the devil on my shoulders
is at war with the demons
inside that fight for your heart
i will feast on god’s children
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
Worship you, Mother
What have I done?
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
Goddamn me, Mother
What have I done?
Mother, keep me safe from the hateful dawn
And clutches, the torches, of his wrathful spawn
Cold may be the night but your light is pure
Together we leave a trail of the spiteful torn
i believe the worst is coming
sooner rather than later
the devil on my shoulders
is at war with the demons
inside that fight for your heart
i will feast on god’s children
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
I BELIEVE THE WORST IS COMING
SOONER RATHER THAN LATER
THE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDERS
IS AT WAR WITH THE DEMONS
INSIDE THAT FIGHT FOR YOUR HEART
I WILL FEAST ON GOD’S CHILDREN
AND THE TIDES WILL RISE OVER
THE MOUNTAINS OF THE DEAD
and the tides will rise over
the mountains of the dead
Published 12th Jul 2018
Author's Note
(c) 2018 Frank Green
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
13th Jul 2018 00:53am
You are feeling
quite vampiric;
can`t remember
the last I have
felt such darkness ...
Always an Honor
to read The King of Darkness ... yours, Devil`lyn
13th Jul 2018 3:38am
