Lullaby of the Damned




Death visits this dusk

with the harshest intent

not inclined to give pardon

it’s too late to repent


no room to maneouvre

no path ahead clear

no famous last words

there’s no lucky breaks here


no kind release
no charm no rapture
no journey left
or soul to capture


Just a shell left to rot
beneath this dark sky
with broken wings
that never could fly




As confusion reigns
each transfusion pains
while every last drop
ebbs from each of your veins


Embalmed during life
and hollow by death
it’s not release
if there ain’t nothing left


To be devoid
of love or joy
has now been revealed
as a foolish damn ploy


You see death will not offer
any last-ditch salvation
just exchange of this life
for eternal damnation



Read The Uncanny Yarn of Monsieur Heureux


Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014



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