"restitution" poems
The distant hollow of the high mountain pass
swallows the setting sun as it steals away southbound
behind the coastal mountain's tangerine sunset hued silhouettes
Mulberry plashed shadows pointing northward
across the evergreens outstretched dimming,
beneath the waning fade of each fleeting eventide
Sundown ebbing asunder the wafting daylight,
each gloaming of the day, helplessly a moment sooner past,
transfixed further south beyond yesterday's passing azure
The lazy days of summer escape unbounded,
nomadic as the sea I've seen sail away before;
evanescent as the beauty of the bloom summer days beheld
and the memory of the fragrance they exhale
The nebulous weight of the gravity is consciously denied
by the truths a human heart beholds
A moment’s epiphany afflicts like a rogue wave in a calm sea;
the only thing my heart ever wanted remains out of reach
Everything my heart needs consciously surrendering
to the poignant passing moment's beauty,
the falling sun at distance sets more suddenly now
Lost in the undeniable certainty
life's imminent season's change
Eyes drawn stubbornly from presence to a sky so far away,
knowing there'll be no restitution for the welling sense of loss...
A bitter sweet song mummers in the silence of the absorbing spell,
summer's sun stained pages of watermarked soul scribbles,
time tattooed reparation for the indelible ache
of a harsh grey winter loneliness
Perhaps too familiar, this whelming Déjà vu
that tears my soul; that tugs at these roots
but cannot sever their sacred grasp
But for now, eyes fixed to the sun's
inevitable tightening tether hence —
to wear weary each fraying thread's impending break
Each sunset leans a deeper angle southward
as it slips down through the firwood shadows;
illuminating other faraway latitudes
far beyond the distant horizon skies
The preordained continuum unfolding what will be ...
someone you used to know ... September 11, 2017 ... 7:30 PM
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
Broke
Unable to finalize any purchase
Checking
For change in the last places that one searches
Insufficient
To the point I'm unable to ward off the throes of destitution
Bankrupted
By devaluing those who have not made restitution
Insolvent
To the point of having to fight off the urge to curse
Disallowed by the prose that places value and give credit....to verse
Denied
Any credit accrued....maybe even unearned
Reevaluation
With no accounting for the time you
SPENT
Learning what you have learned
Depreciation or Appreciation
Cannot be quantified by the lack of someone.saying thanks
Interest will eventually be of value
Once accrued... but for now I must accept
That I'm simply overdrawn at my memory banks
Investment in my own value
Will allow me growth
In my own ...
......personal
Checking account
Helping me in balancing the books
Keeping me payed up and happy
BY
Always giving others their true valuation
So that ego doesnt become a currency
That is subject to... such a devastating inflation
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
Beastly is this monster state yet many damsels cannot avoid
Some may call it disturbingly conflicting and become annoyed
Where rationality coexists with irrationality in an unstable realm
Pretty monster states navigate this journey as captains at the helm
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions
Wonder is this monster state since the inception of Adam and Eve
Men can only hope to be compassionate, steadfast and never peeved
One moment, pretty monster states can be loving and best friends
Next moment, challenging one’s good nature and spirit to extreme ends
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions
Frightful is this monster state like a suspenseful thriller or mystery
Only those who are not faint of heart can sleuth this case history
Where a profound will of character serves to stabilize one’s constitution
Bringing the monster state to an uneventful but amenable restitution
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Failure is my teacher
And success, my graduation
Love does not come from above
It comes from determination
Persistence and passion will rebel
Redemption will be mine
I will no longer accept to fail
My restitution will be sublime
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
1219
Now I knew I lost her—
Not that she was gone—
But Remoteness travelled
On her Face and Tongue.
Alien, though adjoining
As a Foreign Race—
Traversed she though pausing
Latitudeless Place.
Elements Unaltered—
Universe the same
But Love’s transmigration—
Somehow this had come—
Henceforth to remember
Nature took the Day
I had paid so much for—
His is Penury
Not who toils for Freedom
Or for Family
But the Restitution
Of Idolatry.
5.2k
Seek
Solution
Need
Restitution
When will
These people
Marked by
Color
And known
By grace
Have a voice
That isn’t only
A chorus
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 8:15 PM UTC
4:21am
Tue
Aug 12
<*>
restless is the thinking brain,
rapid repeated beating
from an overheating sun
in a room of full-on dark,
difficult to weep,
harder to silent breathe,
one listens to his arrhythmic heart,
sending out messages incessantly & incomplete
every single sin ever committed
comes in with cheery face,
a greeting of, still here!
in this ,
our temporary final resting place
finish us off by completion,
makes us full of restitution,
by seeing to our undoing,
revolving, unending, the finally of sufficiently
those old curses
we can only face
by turning our faces away,
drop in, like best friends, come to sunrise visit
though dawn is yet eons of minutes far away,
though relief can never be fully attained,
though "though' is the first ****** word of excusal,
though betrayal is always next, the secondarily, refusal,
there is never a dot of period,
only a comma of pause, because,
there is no ending in completion
only in forgiving by your harshest critic,
yourself, yourself, our selving,
this unsolvable function of forgiveness upon this,
this, the two-days of Tuesday,
to day
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 4:56 AM UTC
Women are often inspiration for beautiful things
For they are
Compared to stars, summer days and flowers even bird sings
This is par
For all these were made to entertain them
Created so alone would not be men
Not as servants but as equals
Better than the original, a rare sequel
Maybe we had it wrong
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Or shall I compare the day to thee?
In the end we find ourselves on our knees
Saying “take my hand please”
Ladies know your worth
“I’ll give you the world”
No you’re worth more than this earth
Find a soul it is forever
Here is mine, it is my pleasure
But do not take what is yours for granted
Knowing your own beauty you can become enchanted
Narcissistic
The forgotten poems of gorgeous destruction
Compared to cold, dark and other disasters the planet consisted
But without you there is dysfunction
So thank you for your contribution
It makes life beautiful when the world is blurred
When we lose sight you are our restitution
Our lives together in this institution of love
This beautiful constitution signed in blood
We can make forever our home
So no longer do we roam
For I don’t condone giving away what you own
But I would give away my throne to avoid sitting alone
With a look at how a man feels
Change your perspective
Take the chance to know him
Now that you’ve heard tHis stupid little poem
-My Words
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
A Man killing in the name of Justice
A Brother slaying another in Self-defense
A Son firing a round into an intruder in Fear
A Nephew taking up a sword for his Country
An Uncle giving up a criminal to the Authorities
A Grandfather using his cane in response to Violence
A Need for
Power, Money, Fame.
A Response of
****** Theft, Oppression.
A Need for
Justice, Vengeance, Retribution.
A Response of
Judgement, Violence, Restitution.
Two sides of the same coin?
Who is the villain?
If both are the victims of the other,
Who is Guilty?
What then is Justice?
Who shall decide?
You?
Will You be the one to throw the first stone?
Do Good and Evil,
Equate to Yin and Yang?
Balanced forces of Light and Dark.
Or,
Is Evil apparent and easily discerned from Good?
Contrasts of Black and White.
If Neither, Nor,
Do they mix into a swirl of indecision?
A mess of self-righteous Grey.
What if it is my own life I sacrifice?
What if I am the one taking the bullet?
Not in a suicidal attempt or mission,
But instead in protection of Good.
Am I the Villain for causing my ******
Is the intended Victim the Villain for being targeted?
Are the Witnesses guilty for not acting?
Are You guilty for being unaware?
History is written by the Victors,
So do they command Justice?
Does History demand the mantle,
Of deciding Right from Wrong?
Everything unsure in the Present,
Until the Future decides.
If You name me the Villain,
I’ll wear it in Red,
Speak in Riddles,
And break the Rules.
But if I name You the Villain,
Would You do the same?
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
Naught the mages
Elm yellows plough
feigning eternities
dream of man;
the cradle of time
the realm of night,
Scathing Hekates
piacular restitution
heralded papally
upon Seven Hills
cradling Hades
tau cross-roads;
Eliciting with the iron
seminal sickle,
gifting the servants
of the servants of God
and slaves of slaves alike;
dismembering the boughs
of war- elsewhere,
Building broken bridges
Carving the lullabies
of humanity grafting
a sprig of Yggdrasil.
ELEETE J MUIR
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
Piacular restitution suffering joyously
The fallen order of Lilith;
Sunsets secrets scribed defying
Laws pneumatic
A shamanistic seance peacefully
Rousing the foundation of our belief,
Dawns dreaming the fantasy of a seer-
Palpitating asystolic within my chest
The severed hand of God; twilights truth
A stone tablet descrying
My impetuous insubordination
Breathing light upon a black lily
My souls flayed flesh tear stained white
Descending into Hades
Unfathomable regions of despair
As I watch them kneel beside my bed
As if I am prey for those who pray for me
Walking through Persephones garden.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
It has never been my intension
nor was it ever a bone of contention
to alter or disrupt the social convention
but now is the time to pay close attention
to the decline of the human condition
Responsibility rescinded creating moral decomposition
accountability abandoned causing legal repercussion
right and wrong are muddled in a malicious juxtaposition
public opposition has festered into social imperfection
the omission of tradition by politician’s redefinition
HEED THIS ADMONITION OR ARDENT APPREHENSION
SAGACIOUS SUSPICION AND PERSISTANT PREVENTION
Of the decommission of the Physician, Pediatrician
the Technician, and the Mathematician
and give this acquisition to those with no ambition
even those under suspicion of sedition
or held in detention without fear of restitution
This is the deception of the devolution
of the middle classification
and the total destruction
of American personification
praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
The Shadow of Regret is cast upon my soul
I wished to give resentment up so, so, long ago
and yet it seems i've still not found glory in my goal
Redemption will not find me heer til’ i regain control
Restitution is the light by which my shadows cast
a light which i shall never know and shall never outlast
The burden laid before me is to much to overcome
and although the odds are stacked against me, still i will not run
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
The children are running and stumbling
A humbling experience, but deliverance
Is only gained here by running in fear
Away from those who hate and ****
And warp the will of those too young
To see people hung and murdered.
So they are herded with the living
Into an unforgiving world of pain
None should see, even less see again
But they remain in these clusters
Mustering and lining up for food
A homeless brood of adopted waifs
That should be naifs instead of this,
Nomads, glad of a blanket for bed
On the hard ground, all they found
To call home during flight, for tonight,
Not all are children, but the hurt
From blurted out hateful names
Is not the same for the young ones
Who should be having fun and not
Suffering through this hell they got
From being born in the right city
In a time of no pity and no rescue,
No kindness the world should do,
Instead they cringe from angry faces
As if they were disgraces for living.
Nothing left for giving to them.
These are orphans now, not sons
Not daughters, what was begun
Has ended for them, permanently
While nations stand by silently
Watching the perfidy and sighs,
Ignorant of their cries and destitution.
No restitution can ever come to some.
To most there is only memory of death
And running, out of breath, nowhere
Because nobody is there for them.
It is their problem.
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC
Another year closes
and the waves of pain invite themselves
for one last wash over me
a host of words and phrases un sugar coated
calling back the dire pain
duly survived and noted.
and as much as I walk that higher road
it never lets me forgive if I forget.
endless vengeance haunts me for its exaction.
And pain is a nasty ***** to comprehend
it's not who I am
or who I want To be
or what I want to send
but it is on its way.
I can't stop it.
I don't really want to anymore.
I want to feel the rush of satifaction
with the ramming of my metaphorical fist into your charmless faces
a barrage of covert assaults on my good character
well congratulations you win.
Jokers and aces
I'm the bad *** on all of your cases
ran myself into the ground
and not an ounce of gratitude was found
now karma won't listen to me
my great pain howled
and the injustice has been heard
the trade has subconsciously been made.
God help you all there's no way back from this
it is what it is...
a brand new year,
and with it comes resolution and how
the restitution I used to abhor
sits so **** comfortable with me now.
There's More pain ahead,
I'm so conditioned I wear it like a crown on my head.
Well done I applaude you
you intolerable *****
let fate do its will
I ain't holding it back
let this tidal wave crush you
in your tracks
so you can feel my pain
and don't call for me
I wont remember your names
like the years torn from my soul,
my children, my love, my home;
I won't feel it all in vain.
im giving it all to you
the very deserving orchestrators
of my cruelly wrought tidal waves of ******* pain.
Yours sincerely,
Really ****** off.
.... Original write below:
Another year closes
and the waves of pain invite themselves
for one last wash over me
a host of words and phrases
calling back the dire pain
duly survived and noted.
and as much as I walk that higher road
it never lets me forgive if I forget.
endless vengeance haunts me for its exaction.
And pain is a nasty ***** to comprehend
it's not who I am
or who I want To be
but it is on its way.
I can't stop it.
I don't really want to anymore.
I want to feel the rush of satifaction
with the ramming of my metaphorical fist into your charmless faces
a barrage of covert assaults on my good character
well congratulations you win.
I'm the bad ***
ran myself into the ground
and not an ounce of gratitude was found
now karma won't listen to me
my great pain howled
and the injustice has been heard
the trade has been subconsciously made.
God help you all there's no way back from this
it is what it is...
a brand new year,
and with it comes resolution.
the restitution I used to abhor
sits so **** we'll with me now.
More pain ahead.
I'm conditioned to wear it on my head like a crown.
Well done I applaude you
you intolerable *****
let fate do its will
I ain't holding it back
let this tidal wave crush you
so you can feel my pain
and don't call for me
I wont remember your names
like the years torn from my soul,
my children, my home, my love;
I won't feel it all in vain.
im giving it all to you
the very deserving orchestrators
of my cruelly wrought tidal waves of pain.
Yours sincerely,
****** off.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
inspired by a short story from the man from Snake River
<>
no alarm clocks heard expiring,
unrequired and unrequited,
we,
those, self-employed by the
nocturnal repetitive recounting
of sins of omission and worse,
those commissioned in
anger and haste, that breed only
more anger and lay further waste
from humans to
humans,
awaken with an
irregular precision
and bad disorder,
demanding chances,
expiation, restitution, amendment,
but time erodes
possibilities for the
impossible,
foreign forgiveness
knock-you-down rushing currents
of water erodes Snake River boulders,
them oldsters just like the litany of our
malfeasances, indestructible in nature
geologic,
and in
human nature
illogic,
terms, such as time measurements,
irreverent and irredeemable,
for our sins
live far longer than
our owned memories,
in those harmed, who
cannot in the unlimited timeless quantity of
ever ever,
understand
your wry smile,
your why cries,
audibles you’ve
play called, go
unheard, unseen,
even and odd
Bach Orchestral Suites,
Beethoven Sonatas
more mock than soothe
trapped between industrial carpet
and flat unpainted Armstrong ceiling tiles,
you
in a hell of your own creation, forgot to include,
a Sabbath day extant, of rest for weary creators,
ever ever,
or planned in a world you’ve designed,
so the best you
can do
is write
another and another
confession ever ever
watching and listening to
the alarm clock that neither
requires setting, for
it’s audible ticking is
alarm-ing curse
enough ever ever
that always never
rings
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 8:50 AM UTC
In laws, pardon the typo
in the law,
a system of justice,
like the law of averages,
it all equals out in the end,
laws are broken, people bend,
meant not to, break rules of the land,
the court is fair when it demands,
restitution, a repayment of sorts,
the system is in place when a face goes
behind bars,
near or far,
fear or worse,
in a hearse,
thin excuses,
juror recuses,
furor increases,
time decreases,
behind
bars,
penance the menace,
what we need here is some hard time,
under
the thumb of the law,
but the law has no thumbs, only scales,
held in the hand
of a blind maiden,
but what of the parents of a forever lost only child,
but what of the family who loses a father,
or mother, sister and a brother,
but what of a woman who lost her man,
will the maiden step aside and let them
hold the scales,
I think not,
some say the system rots,
the law is devoid of the
emotion,
that those,
who have measured
their lives against a loss,
the experience has burned off the dross,
they are left with pure emotion,
unable to fill the void,
which the law was never meant to do,
we blame society for all sorts of ills,
rather than have society step in and fill,
the void in the law, that is compassion for the victim
the void in society which is not the wrong but to make it right,
the answer,
avoid the law?
no
avoid breaking hearts,
of blind maidens, and
avoid breaking
laws.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
interfere journey body sweaty mastermind dust
dummy\
inhale shale bond reason oxidize crummy
read write swell\
ready curve encrypt slime minus shell heady set
flow sacrifice\
believe alter oceanic shelf killing part of Hell split Earth lent
mayhem vent\
outspent wipe well being clean provoke Cain uphold Able
mean mug\
dump cornmeal unicorn convulsing mend restitution advertently
spiel indent\
hand over to pilot retribution intend empty zeal rummage
destitution\
Hasidic inside the writ spirit fly guide escape unravel ways of
savage\
lives out the side Pegasus soar glide abide Nein but fine rhyme
hymns\
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
My heart got tied by his cord,
When i saw the devil in his eyes.
Didn't mind serving him as god-
His filthy hands on my thighs,
Made me scream lord.
I have broken my vow,
I sincerely seek restitution.
But no one will listen to a "how",
They'll only see the abomination,
For i only thought of now.
It'as i who seduced him,
I was the Delilah in his bed.
Although this is such a grim,
My appetite is what i fed,
And in pleasures, i did swim.
It'as somewhat worth it,
His electric stole my soul.
Fire burned in my hells pit-
When he drove in his pole,
Though my skin he slit.
Now addicted to this master,
I want him again.
This time harder and faster,
I'd love the pleasure and pain,
And the wishing that it'll be forever.
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
We are stubborn oak, weathered by time;
the sea in our roots;
indelibly etched with histories;
generations of shriveled feet entrenched in shifting sand;
ankles manacled by smug doctrine-
a vanity of wigs;
a conceit of hollow gestures;
a chaos of language
caught at the throat by immortal diamonds.
…...
Behind the darkened mirror
sits shadows of lost children cowardly nailed;
confined to straddle a pen of brittle palings.
They sway both ways (from side to side)
singing lullabies to a faceless doll:
“Sleep my little one, sleep...”
Never to sleep.
We are destined to eternal night,
weeping for escape from discordant ghosts
wreathed with barbs,
sharp reminders of The Hidden One.
…...
Are you prepared for a reading?
I see fattened thieves squeal
to redolent notes of Victory that is 'The Hymn of Life'.
Puppets, no longer orchestrated, become their own Masters,
no longer believers of illusions.
Then stepping through window's shattered glass,
discover the New Child
illuminated by an astonished look,
dancing in the gushing fountain of Delight.
Only then will the beginning become the end.
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 8:22 AM UTC
Give back what you took,
all of you!
Just because our lips touched,
doesn't mean you can keep,
It
Is
Mine
I need it, you see?
I can't sleep without each fragment,
Walking with this cemented, half-hearted smile-
We don't have to make this a thing, just-
Give back what you took,
all of you!
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
pull me close son of god
let me emulate your perfection
in the similar direction skewed by human perception
what is perfect god?
are you?
though since you create creatures with fallibility
you must know so yourself
you must realize the nature of mistakes in order to make them
when you breathe forests grow and seeds are sewn
you tiptoe through the seas and make your mark on the continents
platypodes? the most useless creature
but beautiful
with the combined features of simpler folk
duck
******
but then god
you created me
or did you?
did i sprout from my mothers ****** because nature made me that way
or did the universe align to spew me onto the world because it needed my difference
i dont think you had anything to do with it
i think the world was born, as was all life after it
by the scientific methods so many have studied
but i do not disbelieve you could be out there
necessarily
but for that matter i also do not think you are omniscient
i dont think you control the stars
i think you live in a collective consciousness of the witness-less humans
with little to believe in
i think through the millions beliefs that you exist
you have come to be
and you give us someone to blame
to thank
when inexplainable circumstance haunts our present
you exist because we do
not the other way around
we have created you
we have put you into the sky through prayer
and shaped your vision with our verse
humans are clever with our big brains and big brawn
but we are not so wise to realize how much power we manifest collectively
we have created mass fear through words
through stories
we have created global hope through the telling of tales
we are individually weak
holding little power
but as a whole
humanity holds the might to shake the very foundations of the earth
we create beings larger than ourselves so we have a way to feel humble
because without the fear of restitution
our constitution weakens
and we either wilt
or grow too large for our britches resulting in catastrophe
though some use the belief in god to justify their hate
but they have created a personal god
one who is not a part of the greater spirit
a god toxic in nature
and small and weak
so atheists are not the righteous and true
but neither are those who believe in a higher power
neither am i
or you
we are all cells in the lining of the galaxies ******
and if you add fear into our equation
we hold the power to create new beings
no matter how imaginary
so god exists if you want to believe in it
but the disbelief is also valid
because god does not exist to you
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
The problem thrives
as you go by
every possible solution
With words at rest
the sun sets in the west
and there's nothing but a foregone conclusion
Every eye blinks
with sudden confusion
as every tear
f
a
l
l
s
slowly
there's no restitution
Your story
from beginning to end
has a horrible fate
that you try to avoid
but you're always too late
You feel your pulse racing
heart beating faster
you begin stumbling on every word
Lingering soul
a wanderlust mind
the concept of time does not exist
or at least that’s your wish
Then it’s over.
|s.s|
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Growing up in the
White man’s grave,
Experiencing the days
Of infinite mental disquiet,
Glancing up at the
Towering walls of life,
And considering my
Unacceptable wretched
Condition is all I can remember,
For I rejected the feeling
Of rolling in my own cobweb,
Calling it merely a
Trick of my imagination,
Indeed, the child resembles
The father but belongs
To the mother’s clan,
And the waves and tides
Are nothing but noxious
Dynamic icing strength,
Ah! A mighty tree has falling,
Flinging down coil after
Coil with hasty energy,
Someone should please
Ask nature to make
Restitution for this damage
Done to my restless hope,
For the resplendent and
Bastardized peace in me
Has been torn into
Squalid tatters by howls
Of rage and shrieks of lament,
May be, nature can establish
My virginity in the blood-stained
Sheet on my wedding night,
Hmm, my queer life,
The white fowl spotted
By the roving evil hawk,
Indeed, the mangrove tree
Dwells in the Pra river,
But that does not make it a crocodile.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC
Ride forth with your burden of gilt,
in a fit of rage and redemption.
You are death; none can excel.
Your fealty eludes compassion.
That fateful scythe possessed with power.
The souls of your brethren sealed in your chest.
Eternal cries of the ones you ******
forever wailing on the razor’s edge.
The one you called brother,
slain by your hand,
sold himself to power,
and corruption was born anew.
Unfolding, vitiating
more worlds then one.
The tree of life has fallen,
to this wretched blight.
The Shadow realms succumb.
In waters black they are swallowed.
And the demons fall to its lure,
now slaves to one will.
In the farthest corners of existence,
deep in the heart of the dead-lands,
riding despair, guided by dust,
what terrors await the wicked!
An audience demanded;
The King of the Dead.
A favor paid.
No answers given.
Restitution drives you now.
Concern for justice matters not,
as long as your duty remains unchanged
Salvation is but a weapon in the wrong hands.
Come to lost-light, to Angels.
A journey most twisted and perilous.
From the soaring peaks of the White City,
wait for the light to purge the shadow.
“The scribe is waiting”
words of a traitor.
An angel corrupted.
The light dimmed.
In the guise of honor,
virtue and God,
Suffer the world
the sky is now wrought.
Fire and ash welcomes your arrival,
heavens burn at the sight of you.
Kin-slayer, Executioner, Reaper,
Who is above you?
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC