All poems unless otherwise stated (c) 2001-02 KoDeZign
To lay awaste Like things unchaste.
The mouth that from these lungs didst rend
The pain that drove me to descend
To loathe these thousand bitter breaths
A thousand infinitesimle deaths.
The temple proven desacrate
Purged with smoke lies desolate.
To cast away the feet that stray
The fleeting and the errant walk,
The stubborn and the doubting balk
Upon that hallowed path of life
Accosted on all sides by strife
Of satan's power, so rank and sour.
To cut the strand that e'er would band
Me to the pleasures of this world
When horsemen ride with flags unfurled
Let nothing stay that wouldst betray
My soul to hell on Judgement Day.