Gothic-Surrealism

Words of a world, strange though wonderful.

The Damned Light

Tis’ mortal to say where life ends,

The threshold of death carrying us begins.

Within this darkness await the plagues of our mortal sins

The eternal punishments we so fear hath scorched our prideful wings.

Frigid, terrifying screams deafen our ears

that which brings us to tears.

No blast of light shall skewer this darkness!

Tis’ of the faithful to believe no punishment can invade their brightness.

Somewhere within the threshold of purgatory

The holy light is damned, and thus begin our hellish story.

Tis’ the false saint that plungeth into this black pit

Since no mortal can the Lord outwit!

Tis’ mortal to not see the moonlit hypocrite!