My hour of darkness grows longer
Oh Judas, lend me your noose!
Close my weeping eyes, I plead,
And tear out my shattered heart.
For I cannot seem to find a means
By which to open the door
Of my aching soul wide enough
To accommodate my savior.
Peace—let me die here lonely.
No need to taint such eyes.
Love like you have given is perfect
And as such you should remain.
Let no tears fall upon the ground
Though it screams for rain;
Even crimson floods cannot satisfy
Its growing lustful hunger.
A soldier chosen unwillingly,
I have stormed to the frontline.
No longer retreating, holding back,
From life’s shiny bayonets.
A self-induced state of Job,
A weaker form of David
Lost amongst far too many Bathshebas
To remember Jonathan’s sacrifice.
And so slit slender white wrists
With their own diamond ring;
Spell it out in scarlet letters,
“I have fallen unworthy.”
Comment away ^_^
Comments
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u r worthy
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Are we all not but hapless characters of an endless story, destined to enjoy happiness' and endure hardships, all the while having no explination or forseeable knowledge of either?
I only wonder why the best of moments do not seem to linger as brightly as the worst of moments seems to shadow so darkly.
I like the references of characters who begin their stories with much to be greatful for, but eventually find their world falling into ruin (often frm their own misdoings), but once again regain their affection for life.
It evokes a sense of hope to come after all is forsaken.
Though, in the end of this write, I sense no hope to be invoked from your feelings.
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