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Call of the Grave
pestilence,
In the cold years of forlorn doom
none could stop the ever inpending death of galaxies
the blotching of a new hope against the cosmic wind shield of old

doom unto those in the grave,
as water runs deep down into the earth
none escape it, none escape it

when?
when will life be flicked out and we be brought unto the bitter cold embrace of death,
until our dying breath unto you i spoke till dawn

but then, you did not care
cold in your own zone watching me die as i sat there in the moonlight
still drawing ever closer to that familiar touch of the grave
still down i was drawn, deeper and deeper in love

still,
my words of embrace fell on deaf ears
as you were not my savior rather my deliverance
my deliverer to doom and death akin.

than i fell,
what felt like cold water snared the last of my soul and plunged me into the heart of insanity
still i fought to be brought back to reality

or rather to you
yet another river of blood flows,
unstemed from mass killings in the far flung reaches of the galaxy
a red tide in the universe