Dark terror awaiting
like some sleeping thing that snores and rises
Yes, its chest, ribs, iron bars for your soul’s
incarceration, rising, falling, insuring
your own dark demise in closed eyes
a fall, a rise,
a fall indeed
a rise to voices ushering
your soul from deep to deep
your morality to sleep
this God-man to not keep
to shine his face not upon
your putrid visage
smeared with your own dung.

Bed with comfort, down
to swallow your will, heart, soul, all love, down
Yes, down to your own broken pity self
while all your brothers sit with hands crossed on their laps
Act of piety, not to see
a snore, a sleep
A faithless leap
The acrobatics of the damned
A pirouette, flip, a stand
Arms extended out to man
Lost to this divine plan
You close your eyes and sleep, night
Mirror of your soul
You will wake alone.

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