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Constantine Sep 2015
Forsake! Something in me stirs, a craving, a curse
A lustful yearning slowly turning for the worst
To lay down with the dead, this corpse to bed
Upon these sacred grounds, this hallowed earth

How can I devise such darkness in mind?
So completely consumed by my ******* side
Oh lord eternal save me from this lust infernal
Is there not a tree tall enough for me to hide behind?

Or an ocean deep enough to drown myself inside?

Like the velvety black clouds of a coming storm
My arousal unfurls towards her static form
My restraint is fleeting before this sleeping beauty,
Mother Mary be forewarned!
Constantine Sep 2015
With a severed tongue a preacher preaches
And I am lost just like the verses meaning
For each thought of grief there stands a tree
In these woods forever reaching

Oh, am I awake or am I simply dreaming?
Or perhaps a ghost for a vision seeking?
Alas! Let the bell toll for my tired soul,
Mired in the depths of a dying season

Without a prayer, without a reason
Just the possibility of a higher being
And the highest hope of something holy
To believe in, to be in, freeing

— The End —