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Truth And Beauty

And as the black wake opens

The rage pours out in streams

The dark, dark cataclysm of anguished souls

Stroll forth propelling their prophecies through

The mists (of time)

The mists, which cloud mens' minds

And fog their inspirations and aspirations

And drive their ambitions to their terrible conclusions

Twisted and distorted is their nature

Dark and hateful is form

These loathsome beings

And grim creatures

Stealing the sympathies

And perverting the cultures

Until they meet their dark, pathetic needs

Unto the void they go, from whence they came

From nothing they begun, nothing but a single speck

To nothing they will go

Like a cold flower waiting to bloom,

So it can wither and die

Borne out of love, their creation started.

They seem to be an abomination

Subverting, contorting the life they crave

But they carry out the subconcious will of the master

Little does he realise his true intentions.

His dark meaning.

Dressed like an angel he comes

Beckoning and welcoming, embracing all

But underneath is rancid, insidious reason

Corrupted youth and dead life

Wasted and Wasting

On the brink of destruction.....


And these dark secluded beings are only fools and slaves

And their awful masters' name,

He is called it everyday but rarely answers,

Love......(simply love).


by Shred