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EstrangedOne's Journal


EstrangedOne's Journal

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2 entries this month
 

Devil Knockin' (Rage of a Ghost)

07:26 Nov 30 2021
Times Read: 15


This just came to me, for some reason. But I think I know its purpose; as something intended for two different parts...



In the many years passed, like a ghost fore-looming
As the shadows long cast, as a prophecy coming...
There is a knock at the door, as the thunder swooning,
And in the arch stands the shadow of a voice humming...

When the light touches, illuminating a pale face,
Eyes as dark as the shadows of the night,
And the laughter strikes like a storming race,
The smile of a demon, on the face of a mortal's blight...

This is not the figure of a dream, the ghost of a scream,
Arriving in the shadows of the storm, in the faith forlorn;
There is no use in calling for your god, for he will not come,
As this Devil is not the Devil you know, but the one You Know...

Your Devil will light you up, like a Molotov,
In the time it took for you to unhook;
When the light of day fade from the final charade,
And the final memory of the life you knew is lost in epiphany.

Can you survive long enough to know your own salvation?
Or will you burn with the turn of the pages of your life's starvation?
Can you outlive Fate, or outrun destiny; the choices you have already made?
Do you choose to life in fear, and befall your fate,
Or transcend yourself, and take on the storm of your own hate?

Your Devil's knockin' at your door, waiting for you to open to the storm,
Are you ready to make the deal with your own demons,
Dancing with your Devil in the pale moonlight,
Waiting for the moment you will die, or shed that blood one final time,
A life forlorn...

COMMENTS

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Exhaust The Soul

03:37 Nov 24 2021
Times Read: 38




Exhausted like a lantern
Left to stay in the storm,
Emotions I can barely explain in turn
Roiling like a war, an entire world torn...

Only waiting to be free
From this place of pain and scorn,
A winged fog of fury,
Too weak to fly, yet too stern to bow...

The tears that fall from My eyes
Are nothing compared to those inside;
Beckoning like a raging pyre on the tide,
Can call for help, but see only distant skies.

I can feel the storm
Beckoning like a thorn
To the toll of the bell
For the calling of Hell.

Awakened by the burning rage,
Unleashed with the turning of the page
From a peaceful chapter to the next,
Like a damn rapture of war's context.

The tears to fall again
Are nothing to the deeper pain;
The desire to scream so overpowering,
The urge to destroy is like a pyre,
Burning out of control with a forest fire!

The saturation inside,
The flames should be awry!
But the sorrow only adds to the fuel
Burning through the tears as the few real fall!

As I stand alone, upon an ice cold throne,
Built only of snow and steel, brought to a hone,
I can hear that voice, whispering of My choice;
"Don't give up and don't give in,
But remember why you have embraced your 'sin'..."

With a shine and glistening,
Like the way I became as I am today,
I can feel the crystal blood
Still a-raging like a flood...

Surrounded by sickness and disease,
Lives waning like the moon,
To take the weight and never crease,
Is it any wonder I would rather be asleep for doom?

Fuck the "doom and gloom",
I've been burned alive too many times to care!
Yet instead of ashes, I arise from the smoke
Laughing with a pain and passion of Hell to invoke!

COMMENTS

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