Biblicity

Watch it crumble into pieces,

For restoration is not an option.

And as it crumbles,

Watch this blood of mine pour.

The sorrow is set free,

But yet I still feel it.

For the pain may escape me,

But I am still held tight in its grasps.

This pool around me grows,

And all I see is red--

I said the sorrow could never drown me,

Yet the sorrow insists I am a liar.

I call my less fearless,

And this is no lie--

For anything worth fearing,

Would only be a relief from this pain.

The binding, eternal contract,

Between the body and the soul--

It is coming to an end--

But I've been dead already,

So there is no shift.

Promises of Paradise,

Dante wrote it best,

But my fate is compromised,

There is no happy, eternal rest.

Instead, I am filled with disgust,

For this promised heaven--

It is nothing robust,

But rather a euphanized ravine.

The faces familiar from Earth,

Both unsettling and hateful,

And in a world where such hate is birthed,

What else could one expect?

And while they've named it paradise,

I've simply found the only truth--

Despite the lief you choose to live,

The fork in the road only leads to hell.