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Crepuscular Wandering Amidst Tidal Waves of Plague
As dawn approaches, ultimatums of the cold astral plague holders are
Commanded by the icy shards from the whip of winter, in my misery
I am treading among the utter desolate shores of failure, creating my
Invisible elegy with a razor in purgatory
Every scar holds a different memory, in my sanguinary dreams I feel the
Torrent of blood from sadistic propitiation, it is only a call of the
Ancient majesties from the lost regions of the unknown void, I am
Forever condemned into the lamenting winds of winter night
All that lurks to fill within my frozen heart is the bottomless pit of
Sorrows, the emptiness inside myself will become my tomb, my
Apparition rising from the circle of bloodstained knives, I have
Summoned myself only to die in an ocean of my own despair
Happiness is nothing but a kingdom of lies, depression is a realm of
Suffering, death is to be glorified by the wandering departed, all forms
Of existence are different methods of torment, the true path to blissful
Joy is to accept the frostbitten hand of death and fade from this world
poem
by
Michael Robertson
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