Nights like this I wonder why
Why something hasn't let me die.
No angels coming while I sleep
No demons along my floorboards creep.
Laying silent on my floor
I wait for ravens at the door.
But no evil nor any good
Come to take me as they should.
Aching, feverish, here I stand
Waiting just to leave this land.
Yet no god or devil fights for me
A pointless soul is all they see.
Wary of shadows and light
I venture in neither day or night
But crossing bounds in shattered dreams
I paint my hope on ceiling beams.
My celestial scribbles bleed down the walls
Paint dripping, running; waterfalls.
And as I lay my head to rest
I feel the droplets bombard my chest.
To awaken covered in my art
Gives worthless soul a brand new start
So when the spirits next look my way
There will be nothing left to say.
Let holy war for me erupt
Because my soul is so corrupt.
From painting secrets on my room
Giving light to impending doom.
The divines made one mistake, I know
They ignored me all that time ago.
I walked right past and secrets I stole
Giving worth to my meaningless soul.
Like an old and forgotten book
I wrote their plans in every nook.
Every corner of my life
Cut them deeper, paintbrush like knife.
Now every spirit yearns to take
The soul in which they did mistake
They claw and bite and bleed and cry
Waiting for the moment I die.
But now human scorned spends life anew
And my sins aren't nearly through.
