Cathedral Dreams

I find myself lying inside a cathedral,

with my heart on the altar.

Sleep evades my eyes as the silver candles glow.

A flawless painting of a bleak "Saint Cross of the Heart",

it lines the inner ceiling of my ancient mind.

Soiled from the crusades,

weary from the sacrifice and torn from the passion of one God. I live within this hearth of my desire,

to die as any mortal deity would.

Suffering this immortality as a shade of my former self,

I look to death for a refuge from my wretchedness of what I have now become.

The fingers of the wind gently play with my shroud of surrender,

surrendering my iron masquerade to the depths of my sorrow.

I find nothing in grace and I find hell in mercy as the rhythm of the clock vexes my immortality.

knights from the Order of the Dark Rose stand in these cold, desolate hallways.

Forever protecting and loving me like a father.

A solemn sermon,

anmurgent plea for an angel,

silent murder is all within the darkness of my heart. Invasive rust battles my polished emotions as candles mourn my life, one by one.

Black tears become spoken words by a forgotten, deceased, priest of a lost God.

New faith is forged from the flames of my eyes as all of  my past loves hurdles their hate to me as I blink in misery.