Amidst the fading hours rests the full circle moonlight,
darkness now reigns embracing the winds ghostly bite.
Tall grass is bending obeying with each to and fro,
sacrificial rites without any fight left no chance for going home.
Through locks and doors and windows navigating without any beliefs,
flesh and bone beyond animal and man now feel what has been released.
The witching hour disease succumbs and violently falls no victimless prey,
unto a timeless face roaming dimensions without need to BELIEVE or PRAY.
No potions can be gathered nor spells to settle scores,
no symbols drawn in blood can shelter any demon heart from scorn.
Incantations weep useless while possessed plagiarized versions automatically written,
gluttonous Kings and Queens ruling unjustly die in horror unforgiven.
Political waves strategized sent fiercely crashing into the stricken poor,
floating vessels of the perverted rich reek of corruption and woe.
Death is slowly soaking into each and every shore,
baffling golden Prophets their tongues removed shall prophesize nevermore.
Everyday the war is lost and with every fallen breath,
lifestyle choices revealing all like a rotting special effect.
Without any need for a short road of suffering nor pain,
long drawn out misery is the wicked deadliest game.
Dreaming is dead replaced with supreme violence and rages,
the parade of horrors has consumed the eyes leaving only this its gazes.
No twist of fate or a moment late has turned each into this way,
hungrily consuming violence devouring temptation just the same.
Deceptions are growing with iron will and nothing that is mild,
taking advantage of others while increasing disgustingly smiles.
Being pleasant you see is merely being patiently rude,
sharing with others you see is only giving them abuse.
Unmerciful to all especially those whose screams are prolonged,
it's compasses north forsaken next to the graves of right and wrong.
Trusting no one especially within even family there is no belong,
watching Nations rise and fall as though their lives are playing a song.
Seemingly endless Days confuse Angels in their churning sleepless fathom,
this chaos isn't chaotic THE LORD GOD knows even chaos isn't random.
Hiding behind shadows within where few can come to feel,
transparent beyond water and sin where few can come to conceal.
Remindful all great heights from whence there was a place,
recounting lost souls to all great depths crushingly drained.
Pouring thieving collections into a secret bottomless sack,
scoffing at FAITH and redemption there's never turning of back.
Living as a target inviting the crosshairs upon the head,
upright and showing life though the oxygen has bled.
Created for damnation with a brief silent existence,
some Chosen were BLESSED revealing HOLY Signs of resistance.
Randall Paul Prazuch
Copyright © 2011
Originally posted 2011-03-23 16:54:53. Republished by Blog Post Promoter