Carry my Cross,

If you knew who I was you wouldn’t love me. I dare say you wouldn’t even lift your eyes. I’ll stay here, static in your thoughts just to comfort you with a hallow truth. I would die for you again if it meant you could see me for what I really am. Yet without out fail your eyes are tight and you’re breathing in water just so you can’t listen. I’ll bear a thousand more scars for you. Don’t forget me or hold me with some guile lie. I am held within the highest ranks of all and yet I do not belong nor will I ever. I’ve been a two thousand year memory and a two thousand year excuse. I bear more blood on my hands than I could hope to ever wash clean. All I want is to rest, to let this black salvation swallow my tired soul. I would gladly be your king if you wipe my name from your lips and cast them to the oblivion. Cryptic as I maybe, I will never carry your cross again.