By: Nophio
Towards all hellbound souls,
the thrusts of thunder in
bright uniform,
the something like universal emeralds,
the sheen of
forever with a Terra-green ignorance.
To speak one truth,
lies must fight at the frontline,
towards all
hellbound souls.
The biology that speaks such truth in lies,
the false hope that crumbles like
porcelain,
the symbiotic nature to preserve the kind,
the traits in all of us and strait as a dart.
To keep the temporary peace,
war must be forever present,
towards all
hellbound souls.
The babushka nightmares that scares us in sleep,
the final pounce of the
strong arm that chokes,
the precocious discharge of our collective
lifeline,
the fibula that creaks before the break.
To fight for justifiable honor,
scorn must deliver the
motivation,
towards all hellbound souls.
The living just for breathing,
the fall from the Chair of Saints,
the
experience of shame through a broken promise,
the suicide of life is an omega
release.
To explore the glory of faith,
zealous belief mustn’t embrace
fear,
towards all hellbound souls.
In the light of Him and the grace of breath,
we have not the right to claim
stakes to life,
so this goes towards all who choose to ride the
lightning,
towards all hellbound souls.