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The Brute And The God

A sacred solitude laid before him
Deadly, yet fascinating
He rose from the soil
Took the shape of a man to be

To lose one’s sanity
And crave a carnal life
Amidst ruin and misery
God blamed it on an act of vanity

And all these blackened hearts will set sail
He remains to be scornful
Before meeting death in disguise
If so briefly, he will not fail

And in his heart of hearts he knew
’Man’s heart is a ditch full of blood’
With the passing of every new year
He took fright

And the man craved his loneliness
To roam endlessly
His heart is a tomb
God felt no pity

To undo the oppression
He must rid the oppressor
Of everything divine
Wrath earned his black wings




Fri vers (Fri form) av Tomasz Swiesciak
Läst 192 gånger och applåderad av 1 personer
Publicerad 2013-04-03 07:41



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Tomasz Swiesciak
Tomasz Swiesciak