We have survived.
The terror of our very being.
When we have nothing to fear but ourselves.
If I should start to explain.
I wouldn't even know where to begin.
Unholy thoughts of redemption.
I have been punished in my own hell
but I found my pleasure in this.
Nobody ever gave me such things.
Void of compassion
no matter what I do.
I am at enmity with myself.
I found my delight in this.
The joy of living just faded to black.
This world is a hole, den of sin.
Sinking deeper, turning myself in.
I found my comfort in this.
The last chapter is always written in blood.
Breathing new life into this shell.
But death leaks out of every wound.
Caught up between salvation and dismay.
Trying to avoid any refusal.
Accepting the fact of the oncoming event.
The confluence of all the senses.
Focused on a force of repulsion.
the undeniable truth will endure.
To suffer no longer from a life not my own.
The day is coming that the dawn will never surface. the day is coming that the night will last.
Longer than ever before.
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