perhaps this contains the essence of the Gospel of Madness....
In the sad state of Damnation
in this sad state of Damnation
the borders to your world have been shut down
never to be reopened
newly returned to this polluted wasteland
a place of violent silence and shame
the place I called home
but home is where the heart is
and I have none
it has long since been grinded into a fine powder
food for the nostrils of each fiery muse
whose flames have burned my way
no judgement for me today
no rest for me this night
no need for eyes to see
that Hope is out of sight
the moon has no power here
it barely makes me thirsty
the stars are merely candles
of cold truth and insanity
in this sad state of Damnation
there can be no escape
no bridge across the abyss
that separate us
that does not concern me
nothing does anymore
if I choose to, I will fly
on wings of woven torment
through countless storms, to you, to repent
to buy with blood and tears
a chance to once again
walk with you on those distant shores
that I don't really remember anymore
perhaps you are only a myth
the sweet demon of many a daydream
the whispering echo of a scream
you are still the horror
the inner peace ecstasy
a modern day heresy
towards the world of fuck and forget
you're the chemical apocalypse
mislabelled as love
you're the acid rain from high above
melting away the paint of this clown
such is the weather
in this sad state of Damnation
the skies are allways grey
the ground is cold as a frozen dawn
I am battered and worn, tattered and torn
the borders to your world have been shut down
but the gates can easily be broken
the next time
the world ends
Poetry by Michael Dyst
Read 701 times
Written on 2008-03-15 at 21:18
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