Ritual Misery
written ~September 1998Crushed, beaten,
will it ever end?
My wounded heart can never mend
Satan himself couldn't do a better job
Wrenching from me this tortured sob
A bloodied heart
envisioned in me
For no one has my eyes to see
The pain inside has no escape
Except in the path I choose to take
Everyone thinks
it's just a phase
But they'll never no 'till it's too late
'They think our heads are in their hands
But violent use brings violent plans'
I don't know how
much more I can stand
Walking already like one of the damned
But a another's pain says I'm not alone
Who's proven my heart is not one of stone
In the eyes of
others we've already failed
But in our hearts, we will always prevail
Life has become a corporeal prison cell
But it goes on however cold and stale
Something beyond
human comprehension
Exists like another dimension
It's been twisted and warped into a Hell
But it's purity remains like a bridal veil
I don't wake up
each morning for any reason
Not glory, fame, money, not treason
But for the one thing left I do believe in
The purpose for the sorrow I sleep in
There isn't, and never was a final test
For 'Pleasure too safely enjoyed lacks zest'