Reflection Of Polluted Art

Dead living off this secret pain

Dead living off this painted hate

Tears are soul embedded

Contrast of obsidian fire describes a painters brushed off

Sequence.

Crucified soul, emptied heart

Weaponed mind preaching days of my last

I dress darkness on my summoned inked black.

Outside I acknowledge freedom inside I possess imprisonment.

Sleep is ephemeral suicide

Love portioned heavenly

Death an odor of immortality

I spread wings of an eagle

I take losses like lucifer.

I'm abandoned by the ones that held me close

We were from the same Aeon.

Our hearts measured by the levels of love we encounter.

I spit on the devils fire

I'm one of his own whenever the light is running late.

With a heart weight of a casket every good memory is grieve.

Wishing I never had eyes...

All these tears give confirmation to the ones that hurt Me.