A Thought's Dying Breath

October 6, 2010
By Anonymous

With one final incline
Of his monitered lifeline
This must be his sign
To enter the Divine

To leave his desires
And to finally transpire
Be accepted by gold choirs
Or perish in black fires

The death of the Beast
Be Earth's next great feast
To join the shadows of the deceased
The last voyage of the artiste

But before turning to dead
We see the last images in his head
Theres nothing left to dread
As he dies in his bed

And now off to his sleep
to take his great,final leap
His soul,Yours to keep
With the sound of one last beep.

The author's comments:
Just something I made not that long ago. (I swear I'm not depressed,I just write really good dark pieces,haha.)

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