adventures in dysthymia

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Nightfall, a lyric


NIGHTFALL

I long for the dark, the coming of night,
I wait the release of no more tomorrow.
Nothing remains, no will to fight,
no reason to live, only my sorrow.

Christ and Anti-Christ dwell within me,
anointed of God, marked with the Beast.
I know who I was, who I might be
when nightfall consumes the greatest and least.

The end of days is in my soul;
Armageddon takes its toll.
Who will await us, who will console?
The coming night swallows us whole.

To heal and to hurt, to hate and to love,
to be your slave and set myself free:
no man holds the wisdom, no angel above,
to know the lock that fits every key.

The old god has passed, the new sits enthroned;
we serve our two masters, what is and what was.
Each new sin’s delights must be full atoned;
nightfall names our penances.

Stephen Brooke ©2012

makings of a song, maybe

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