Poetry/Lyrics you've written

[JudasAcolyte]

I decided to post my really long one.

Its about a man, or an angel rather, who has been... ya know what, figure it out yourself. if after reading it you still cant figue it out PM meill fill you in, if there are any words you dont understand look em up. written in a semi-olde style wording, so if you think my grammer is off, its not.

In the Mirror

Blood shot eyes and matted hair,
A plain straight face,
And emotionless stare,
All that is, all I will be,
Is who I am?
Can this be me?
The bloody hands, the faded flesh,
From the saw that kills a tree,
I broke the skin I saw the blood,
I stood and shook with pain.
It hurt so much, but I couldn’t feel,
Nor hear neither gasp nor breath.
I thought this could be the end I thought this could be death.
But the blood it still ran down my arms,
And stained my shirt beneath.
The saw, the axe, the blade, the knife,
That I did unsheathe.
I felt pain but it was fading,
Just like the scars in time,
I couldn’t help it I shook and shivered
With neither reason nor rhyme.
I felt the blood go to my head and begin to cloud my mind.
The eyes now dull once that were,
Just as sharp as a hawks,
But now they lay useless beneath the long brown locks.
Nothing to see nothing to hear my senses they grew dull,
It will soon be nothing but a rotted skull.
My eyes my life they all grow dull,
As I watch and wait,
I am No longer seraphim, and no longer great,
I sit a grigori, a watcher, and I watch and I wait.
I watch and wait for a time that I will be wanted,
Until then my eyes my face,
Will just seem dark and haunted.
The terms now used that once had meaning,
Goth, demonic, the definitions that are fleeting.
From the ashes like a phoenix I will arise,
And you will all perish under the gaze of my eyes.
The black, the dark, and the night it scares, all who still fear.
But I’ve come so damn close, Death is coming near.
He comes and watches just as I once did,
b*****d Spawn of Satan and Sin,
From his gaze many a mortal, they have run and hid.
But I am not afraid to die, I will stand alone.
And through the pain I will not sigh nor let out a groan,
I will feel the blade upon my flesh and I will be relieved,
For all that is and all that was vanishes in the steam.
And as his scythe slashes my throat,
I smile as I die for I know what comes next,
I open my covered eye.
I look around to see that there is dark.
All I hear is the breaking sound of a lark.
I blink once, two times, more and there I begin to see
The reflection of a demon staring back at me.
I feel as though that I'm possessed yet I’m still in control,
It seems all my dreaming has begun to take its toll.
I stare at the mirror with ner a change for many a waking hour.
It seems this glass with its glaze my soul has come to devour.
It ripples and shakes it sucks me in and never again will I grin,
After the horrors of that place you’d think my world
Would be full of grace but it only gets worse as time goes on
All Hell is loose for the demon spawn.
I shake my head and once more I peer into the dark,
Still I hear that call, that sound of the meadow lark.
It emanates through the air with a vibrant ring,
I can tell that that bird is a beautiful thing.
If only the sky would show me a sign that every thing is fine,
I wouldn’t have to stand here until the end of time,
Staring at the mirror only to have it stare
Back at me, my reflection it dost bear
The light of heaven is soon to fade and through the River Styx I shall wade,
On my way through Hell and back to see the man, the demon of black.
I wake again from my frozen trance only but to find,
The bleeding has stopped and the fog has cleared my mind.
I stare again into the dark and hear once again, the dreadful sound of silence
Punctuated only by my rasping breath, cold as ice inside the room,
And I can see my breath if only I could see the light at the other end.
In the Mirror I stare to never turn away.
I stand there and wait for that fateful day,
The day I will be recognized as one who’s price has been paid.
The grigori the watchers they would sure be proud,
That I watch over man from below the clouds.
Never again to see the light of day,
Perhaps there is another, larger debt to pay.
This is my mirror this is my life,
Damned until the end, never to turn away,
Until my life it mends.
All these memories they cannot be mine,
I am just a filter until the end of time.
This mirror is the end of all thoughts and pains,
I must feel them all and listen to the rain.
The lark dies and is no more never to have had,
The pains of the human race,
Emotions good or bad.
I get the wounds, all but the dead,
Their pain is filtered through,
If when only they died,
I would die too.
But I must remain before the reflection aghast.
This wretched place my memories they will never last.
One day I will be disposed of but another will come in turn,
He will come to hate this place, pain, he will learn.
But until then I remain the last filter of the dammed,
The pained the sick the sorrowed them all, my own life was banned.
Until the day I find another to take my place,
My eyes will be bloodshot,
My hair a wreck,
And the emotionless expression will remain unchanged settled on my face.