The snow falls now on a desolate place
That for one man meant all life, and now death
His grave, a place of final resting
This death meant more than all of the years of his life ever had,
It brought long-awaited peace,
that this Planet could never offer,
because his body, soul and mind harsh an overwhelming evil:
a darkness thicker than any night,
a selfish evil:
Who wanted it all for herself,
an evil, now lost
to Man.
How ironic...
Just look up, my Angel,and try not to scream
as your mind shatters around you like shards of glass
An empty hollowness inside cutting you more deeply than any sword
and a pain so deliciously unbearable that it pulses through your veins, giving you life.
You've nothing to fear,
and everything to gain,
But what you've lost for this new richness can never be obtained
It's lost to the wind and the sky and the snow,
What makes us all human?
Only you would really know...
Losing yourself for something believed as the truth,
(Finally, truth......)
Which was found to be nothing more than another lie,
You were never the one reaching out your hand, or holding the sword, no..
it was Her,
we all know it now..
She, with the sweet motherly voice whispering love into your ear
When that voice was like a poison seeping into your blood,
Now an empty shell of a man,
Only death can bring the purification.
You can see now the twisted ways of the Planet,
Not one pleasing memory except,
when your life ended,
leaving your mother's asphyxiating embrace,
leaving a world of misunderstanding behind.
A single dark feather rests in the snow, marking the man's grave,
the feather of an angel stripped of completion,
stripped of all but one wing,
the feather is a remembrance of all that is beautiful
and all that is pure,
all that is withheld from the world's eyes.
No tears shed for this man's death, only mine and the others who truly understand,
the beauty of the One-Winged Angel....
