Gore-Angel (a poem)

You are my last hope in this rotting city of thieves
The only gore-angel that I still believe
The agony and venom that I receive
Makes me love this sugary disease
Nightmares, visions, cries, and dreams
Your splendor brings me to my knees
I left the city, my feet aching, left you far behind
I followed the scar-faced vagabond who was deaf and blind
To the slaughter fields where I thought I could find
The grave of my father and my tribe which has been confined
Alas, you followed me there, your eyes seared and shined
With the ferocity of a hundred demons and the spirits of war
We marched among the living and stepped over the corpse
Of the burning man who burns no more
And the deity children who dared confront us
I am no longer a man but a beaten down animal
I wander and drift, my homeland in tatters
Pain sears through my body, each and every atom
You are not the liberator whom I thought would bring peace
But a grim reaper and Hades’ ravenous beast
Murder me now, give me my final rest
Here is my knife, sink it into my chest!
But you’d rather see me suffer, die slow and agonizingly
Wither away until my pain is gratifying to you
You are a creature, a truant, a curse against men
And I will hang myself in these killing fields
Bring this all to an end


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