The snow falls now on a desolate place
That for one man meant all life, and now
death
His grave, a place of final resting
This death meant more than all of the years of
his life ever had,
It brought long-awaited peace,
that this Planet could never offer,
because his body, soul and mind harboured an
overwhelming evil:
a darkness thicker than any night,
a selfish evil:
Who wanted it all for herself,
an evil, now lost
to Man.
How ironic...
Just look up, my Angel,and try not to scream
as your mind shatters around you like shards of
glass
An empty hollowness inside cutting you more
deeply than any sword
and a pain so deliciously unbearable that it
pulses through your veins, giving you life.
You've nothing to fear,
and everything to gain,
But what you've lost for this new richness can
never be obtained
It's lost to the wind and the sky and the
snow,
What makes us all human?
Only you would really know...
Losing yourself for something believed as the
truth,
(Finally, truth......)
Which was found to be nothing more than another
lie,
You were never the one reaching out your hand,
or holding the sword, no..
it was Her,
we all know it now..
She, with the sweet motherly voice whispering
love into your ear
When that voice was like a poison seeping into
your blood,
Now an empty shell of a man,
Only death can bring the purification.
You can see now the twisted ways of the
Planet,
Not one pleasing memory except,
when your life ended,
leaving your mother's asphyxiating embrace,
leaving a world of misunderstanding behind.
A single dark feather rests in the snow, marking
the man's grave,
the feather of an angel stripped of
completion,
stripped of all but one wing,
the feather is a remembrance of all that is
beautiful
and all that is pure,
all that is withheld from the world's eyes.
No tears shed for this man's death, only mine
and the others who truly understand,
the beauty of the One-Winged Angel....
