Sunday, March 7, 2010

Memories of Death

The mirrors fall, it slices the faces of existence.
It's a stream of sadness, as our blood flows.
The silent stream of blue soon turn to red.
Our body, a prison for our souls.
Through the lifeless body our souls go.
Your body consumed by decay.
Into the darkness, a journey of fate awaits.
The blood rust color fades away as we become fragments of memory.
Searching through the dark all alone, for the light.
Miles away lost in a sea of space.
Mourning in darkness.
The morning the beginning of darkness.
A white light a place for souls.
The spectre of the souls shone translucent.
In a sea of madness.
A wicked soul of black appears.
To form into something greater.
Together the balance is complete.