Kept warm by the light of the lantern
My presence blacken their patterns
Lost sight of everything tonight
A pock in the healthy and calm
Their scorn behind your back My promise would put them down
No trace of reverence left Immemorial fire in their eyes
At the slightest touch from my soul
I would perish at the given signal
For all the plagued and lost
Tainted prophet in flesh Desicion in stalemate
Dripping sin
Dare to feel death at hand
Through the forest came the morn
Surprised me with its voice Across the leafy pathway
Their deeds smeared in blood
The council of the cross
For all to behold
The pest through the air
Must have sensed my coming
With despise for squalor
Lashing out at the poor In pallor escape from the end
I turned away my eyes
And less to fulfill my task
She would be safe and firm
Fading time to leave from here
Taken away from stifling grace
Nothing of this is in vain
And saved from the past.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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