The Cradle of Life

'Hell is known under many callings, two of which are Earth and Heaven.'

Where is your majesty, your kingdom in abundance of peace?...
Your 'gift' a life eternal? Or a spiritual disease?...
Yours, a castle wrapped in golden clouds divine?....
Mute, motionless God, drunk off your own vengeful wine...

"Kneel to what thou will, your images of sticks and stones. With thee your deities are fleeting, fossilized in aching eternity, you idolize broken bones. Misled by a false euphoric gesture, rejoice in the emptiness of your soul. Exalt your feelings of solitude, the isolation drips from an absent kiss. Fictional flames seem to frighten, while the empty promise of forever lay unfulfilled. Indications of my inheritance, in withering skin, 'salvation' seems elsewhere, and I win."

Mighty death, you neglect you are but a product of a discarded life
A beneficial end to the useless and the tired, an exit to misery and strife
Life is the cradle, which death does sleep...
A conceited black shadow, behind us does creep...

"Beyond time and space, I am the finish-line to which all life does race. No life shall live without death, I am found in the first and final breath."

An imminent collapse of this painted parade...
What malice, what mockery, is behind this charade?...
Unselective killing grounds, silence has its way
A curse and a blessing, a price all must one day pay...

"Life is the question, and death is the answer my sweet. Nothing exists forever, in due time we must meet. Anticipation grows, upon you an invisible eye without blink. The earthen shepherd calls in the flocks, and in a downward spiral you sink. The wine of hungry earth, as bitter and bland as your birth. Close thy lifeless eyes, and witness the peace of my land... as is the only truth to tell, birth and death, blissful heaven to everlasting hell."


Poetry