Mortem



Death is real, real as the decay of ancient art
Death is real, more real than the fade of a heart
Death is real, as real as the families it tears apart
Death is real, real as old grapes turning sweet then tart

Death is the uninvited guest, one that we all let in
Whether we want it to or not, in spite of our sin
May we be good, may we be not, may we be good within
Death follows us from where we end to where we begin

Fallen apostates cry out for help, but none shall aid them
Religious zealots humor themselves at those they condemn
As the victim chokes on his own blood, his own phlegm
Cloth tears as he reaches and grasps thorns by the hem

The forsaken shall be left nameless, beneath a bed of sand
Their lives taken at the behest of the reaper’s hand
For, if life shall continue, a sacrifice is what they demand
Or, so the zealots claim as it has been foretold and planned

Blood as it drips from the pierced hand by the thorn
The savior’s head glows crimson with the crown he must adorn
The past sacrifice of every unfaithful father’s first born
Those they had sworn to protect, they must then mourn

Angels wings that were clipped for the betrayal of His honor
Their pride filled their hearts as they rejected the first scholar
His wisdom and divine teachings they deemed to be a bother
And turned their backs on the being they once called father

Spirits incapable of releasing their screams or their mourning
Funeral clothing now torn seams of what they were adorning
The tears of loved ones fruit the rot that will begin transforming
The once living body of the loved one that they once were adoring

Dark daemons speak of the folly that shall become their subject
Fear overcomes them of inevitable doom that the daemons project
Terror consumes the life of those He does not protect
As the horror of the inevitable fuels the daemon with prospect

Necrosis consumes all in the rot, be it the haves or the have not
And with it dies the history of those soon to be forgot
Nothing is eternal and death is but a part of the plot
More permanent than life itself, its grip tighter than any knot

Despite the end that comes, enjoy what can be found around you
There is so much to experience, both the old and the new
Enjoy those around you, be it many or just a few
For, one day, the reaper shall come to claim you too


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