Oh why-- deceased me to be,
lather my decaying soul,
tamper my undivine spirit;

One self shall not seek devotion,
for you are a destroyer,
came upon thee with mass torment,
faded is my sound;

Oh why-- deliver me to thee,
dust of my face,
intervene my soul image,
a triumph of demean pleasure,
oh must I summon to thus wicked nature,
discreet my abolished persecution of loyalty;

Oh why-- giveth' my last joy,
founded in me an imperfection,
tear me now-- or shall not seek revenge,
upon thy wovened layered flesh,
take from thus temptation,
in revelation of thy whole,
and destroy ones blood of undying famine feature;

Oh why-- hand of hopeless-ness,
a tar of murky scented smell,
dean my faith,
a master of sore destruction,
conceal of prosper,cynic,benign-- I dream,
oh chamber of invisible water,
flush thy sin,
keep it renown,
for is one saber of my destine heart,

Hope in the almighty,
I reveal my weak and tangible lies,
for sake of my faith,
descend me from evil;

Shall I overcome my darkest ground;
Shall I overcome my faintest sound;
Shall I overcome my negative around...

Copyright ©2003 Joann Marie Santos
 
Copyright © softlyspoken, All Rights Reserved