Judgment Day

When I tried to turn away
your shadow always followed;
when I tried to dig your grave,
you had beaten me too it;
I have this rising need
to blood-let all your lies;
you’re counting numbered days,
tied like a fractured martyr.

Cannot corrupt your guilt,
a disease too hard to swallow;
as you kneel on broken knees
from all your violent sanction;
never a pious repentance
or one moments empathy,
you are the substance of abuse,
to an unaffected addict.

The herald to your demise
is playing your music,
whilst you’re dancing like a whore,
on the deck of your own Titanic;
an abstract measure of revenge,
I cannot call into question,
I hope the bitter taste will end,
when you are ground into nothing.

Throwing fears across the sky,
coincides with each blood drop falling;
wishing the world would only cry,
is the desperation of your conceit;
you have tainted every memory,
but you cannot infect the future;
I can watch you as you rot,
into the forgetfulness of eternity.