Now is that time of the year when pumpkins
Fleetingly appear behind every shop window
And the hell with all gargoyles,
Demons and living dead of Halloween.
I'm fleeing
This pervading madness.
I no longer rely on anything, good or evil
For down here,
None shall be my king.
And you, infinite
Through oblivion,
My spirit and echo of my life,
You shall be,
You shall be my path.
You'll light up
My way out
Of this matrix of deceit and predation.
You shall be
My weapon of choice.
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.
No comments:
Post a Comment