The Pendulum

The mist in the air from these haunting pages

Suffocating me

Neither Seraph nor Holy Father spoke it-

Nor Tempter to reminiscent these

The pendulum sways with a rhythmic passion

My heart palpitates as my guilt arises

The mist that has misplaced my past obsession

Of the darkest sin- within me

I wander so desperate, I wander hopeless

I search for a fulfilling emissary

The Seraphs nor Holy Father touch it-

The Tempter caresses these barren soils

Where I lay

I rummage so panicked- my fate awaits me

I run from entities

Captured hated, numbed pain

Contradictive emotion they gained

From the dead they destroyed

The charnel avidity-the mist arises

I look to the Seraphs for atonement

Their scornful mocking shrouds me deeper

My pallad passion fading

I run from the pendulum


Palpitations from my guilt arising

The dirges begin to echo inside my mind

As grim fate beguiles the desire within

The sojourned wants that no one shall see within me

Within those that hide

The pendulum swaying rhythmically-

The pendulum, the pattern of all my hauntings

Prestigious object of balance for me

And as I adjust-

The angels descend

My passions are faulted and stripped from me

The mist that fortells all this evil rising

The words of the scripture bleak

And as I confess

Your God comes and takes you away from me