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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1030743-Symphony-of-the-grave
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1030743
there is always a choice of fate
a bitter shade of gray across my eye,
a scent that blackens the mind,
the air is alive tonight,
in a place where death is all youll find.

never gone is what you realize,
as your taken by the hand,
led toward a horizon of red skies,
by more than a thought but less than a man.

drift as a shadow nothing more,
appearing as less than them,
as they were before,
before looking back passed the end.

engraved in stone are their signatures,
invisible in time,
but as so dark are these scriptures,
burn themselves into my mind.

sunlight bleeds into the clouds,
an orange glow across my face,
illuminating what I cant say out loud,
reveals a human in my masquerade.

A deepest of aura follows my guide,
never have I seen such darkness,
deeper than the black of his eyes,
but no fear is harnessed.

Distanced a choir of angels sing my name,
closer are the demons that embrace me,
evil beckons from my shame,
serenity in a crimson sky that faces me.

whispers of hate dancing in my ears,
they speak the mind of many,
envy of a choice swallowed by fears,
so be not chosen by any.

i refuse to follow my predecessors,
and remain shaded by an epitaph,
to walk as spectors,
but to feel as half.

these events falsify fate,
the choice is obtained as well craved,
so i stand before these gates,
and listen to the sympnony of the grave.
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