Beguiled
12-13-2004, 12:02 PM
This is something I wrote last night. It's not really a story or a poem, more of my thoughts at the time. Oh yes, it's a bit morbid...So here it goes. Critism is welcome. Thanks.
~ Angel.
___________________________________________________________________
When all is said and done I hope you realize that you have been falling even as you thought you were rising. The black beast rides on your shoulders, tearing at you mercilessly, inflicting centuries of pain. But you cannot feel it.
Your arrogance will slowly choke you. Cutting off the precious breath of life, surround your mind and soul with darkness, but you still will not feel the pain.
You have blood on your hands. You're sitting on a broken throne surrounded by the dead. Their blood covers your hands and stains them the dull red of death. Their dim eyes gleam with malice, inviting you to share the terror, the seemingly never ending pain that gripped them as they fell. But you cannot see this.
Even as you sleep the screams of the lost rise around you, haunting your footsteps but you are deaf to their despair.
Their families wept for them but you did not even lift a finger to help ease the pain of their passing.
I hope someday you will know. Their misery, their anger, their despair was your doing. And it is yours to bear and to cherish for all eternity.
You will die alone, in the shadows,
And maybe we'll have mercy on your damned soul,
But know this; you do not deserve it.
~ Angel.
___________________________________________________________________
When all is said and done I hope you realize that you have been falling even as you thought you were rising. The black beast rides on your shoulders, tearing at you mercilessly, inflicting centuries of pain. But you cannot feel it.
Your arrogance will slowly choke you. Cutting off the precious breath of life, surround your mind and soul with darkness, but you still will not feel the pain.
You have blood on your hands. You're sitting on a broken throne surrounded by the dead. Their blood covers your hands and stains them the dull red of death. Their dim eyes gleam with malice, inviting you to share the terror, the seemingly never ending pain that gripped them as they fell. But you cannot see this.
Even as you sleep the screams of the lost rise around you, haunting your footsteps but you are deaf to their despair.
Their families wept for them but you did not even lift a finger to help ease the pain of their passing.
I hope someday you will know. Their misery, their anger, their despair was your doing. And it is yours to bear and to cherish for all eternity.
You will die alone, in the shadows,
And maybe we'll have mercy on your damned soul,
But know this; you do not deserve it.