The Cry of an Ember

A dying whisper of embers calls out to me,
My final hope of ever being free,
A new hell awaits beyond the sea,
And the cycle must again repeat.

A broken mind for a broken soul,
What was once innocent has fallen fool,
To the evildoers who eat the damned,
And stain the white wool of a dying lamb.

The beast within is breaking free,
Eating away at my last bit of sanity,
Calling out it’s decree,
That I will not again cross the sea.

A broken soul for a broken mind,
The beast within here to constantly remind,
Me of the white sand within,
No amount of prayers can take away this sin.

In the next turn of the hour glass,
I don’t think I’ll be able to last,
As the tower of time strikes all too fast,
I think I’ll put my weary soul to rest at last.

No phoenix will rise from my ashes,
Only my pain taught to the masses,
They will sit and clink their wretched wine glasses,
Tears falling and filling the casket.

I can’t live in hell again.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I’ll die before I do.
I must repent.
Repent.

As the angel hits the ground,
Bones breaking in synchronized sound,
Innocence lost to the drowned,
A new king of Death will be crowned.

I cry out but no one hears,
From the bottom of this chasm I cry in fear,
As an insignificant ember floating through the wind,
The cyanide pumping through my blood in the end.