The Coming of the light, reminds me of a past plight.
How once other worlds aroused intrigue, to later form wounds to grieve.
I watched him rise, witnessed his own demise.
A blind follower he was, to stay controlled by his flaws.
A new slate to start a fresh, cleansing his deeds of flesh.
Powerless regressed, through his idol of blood he digressed.
Upon the throne of thorns his virtues were deformed.
Those scars are his to adorn.
Those wounds are now healing, the lessons forever revealing.
This world seems consumed by lustful corruption and beguiling seduction.
The walls of sin towering from within, senses of perception diminishing.
Cease our meaningless existence
written from tears of sadness.
The beginning of an evolving resistance.
Through the pain of my past I ensure myself another chance. To lead a path devoid of grief found upon new beliefs.
Lead not follow, forget the sorrow.
Repair the hollow welcome tomorrow.

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