By Paradoxology

~ Darkhouse ~

The side of the lighthouse, the sight of my death
Where I cried out your name with my first and only breath…
Desecration, but of who?
Dead creation, born of you

Robed in remembrance of faith torn apart
Poisoning everything back to the start
Batter my brains out and butcher my heart
This I was baited for right from the start
Take now the blade from before
Sever the soul of the saint from the whore
Yours through the ceiling and mine through the floor
Then to remember no more
Of your father the Devil, the “innocent one”
Praising the Lord as you murdered his son
Drinking his blood just for fun
Eating his flesh on the run

Feeding your daughters, indulging their fate
Monsters bring comfort for pain they create
An ocean of tears…such a small price to pay
For the freedom to make your own laws for each day

See them internally sold and betrayed
Harlots in training by mommy’s charade
It’s all such a shame…but a small price to pay
For the wisdom to choose your own truth and the way

Life is defined by a stream in the sand
From the scene of the crime to the knife in your hand
From the dark fallen lighthouse it pours without end
Through a failed design in your treacherous pride
When a brutal abortion brought fatal despair
Like an artist in rage
You painted my world in brushstrokes of red
’Til the last hope was dead
Like a lost drop of rain

My only word erased by words unsaid

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2018 Paradoxology
Published on Saturday, October 6, 2018.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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