Sunday, June 26, 2011

Under the branches of a tree under the red moon of Armageddon

I am undone by grief, am full of emptiness
Despair so sweet yet I endure this existence

There will be no relief, though I pray
I am broken and worn despite resisting
I have no dreams, my lungs hold no breath
But I endure

I raise a single fist in the air as I collapse
Under the red moon of Armageddon
Under the tree of life that is dead

My senses all deadened, by the pain, sprawled upon the grasses
Beneath the branches, I realize with arms wide open
That I am the cause of this decay

I am responsible for all the cancer that my existence has caused
I am made of meat, I am composed of dust, I am the flaw

And yet, covered in a cloak of mourning, for I am broken
I endure this existence
I endure
With dreams and hopes unspoken
Yet prayed