Only that I am so an outcast to society best,
In the darkest of the hour I am for that behest,
Abject to the darkness thus I submit in whole,
For that I am in the great’st despair in all,
Finer days that pass give me reprieve in my fall,
That of the sanctum I rest does release my soul,
Frees my garnered spirit entrapped within a cage,
So neither writing nor word can never turn the page;
At long last as the ends of days grew near as fair,
Departs slowly as the lining of my blood leaves a dare,
It talks to me of the growing expansion of body bloat,
And goads that I shall live again once I leave this boat,
Towards the gates of heaven I break the gates and spit
At God for I an neither innocent nor guilty but rather split,
Towards the ends of Chaos I travel and whip Satan there towards,
Inwards I shall make myself a claim for sanction as Earth inwards,
Greene thus the fields, though no simple mind ever comprehend,
Am alone for neither God nor hell can never mine apprehend,
As I gaze towards the light, I see a blindness that takes me so,
It captures me and in chains drags me to the abyss onward I go,
While I am imprisoned I shall remmember the words who read this,
And never trust my inner flesh and soul so long as I live through this.

Mysterious, Nature, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
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