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Finish Him.

Divided is the renegade, As twilight's shroud descends. Despair has breeched his barricade, Here where his journey ends. There is no God to call him home, No Savior defends him. From heaven's grace this rebel roamed, Religion offends him. He's never prayed the Lord to keep. He trusts man's delusion. A soul that lives beyond the sleep, Is just an illusion. Yet here he stands beside the bed, Where flesh lay defeated. He hears a voice pronounce him dead, His journey completed. But slumber has not closed his eyes, He's filled with confusion. Beyond the veil of his demise, He finds no illusion. He fearfully attempts to flee, From whatever awaits. Like all who thought they'd cease to be, He can't escape his fate. In a place where God is absent, Far beyond creation. He will wrestle with the torment, Of exiled damnation. Alone he greets eternity, Into the night he fades, Where he will share the destiny Of all life's renegades
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Written by
francis-d-brewsberry
American
Published
Sep 27, 2010
Lines·Words
39·162
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