Eh...Rhyme is too damn hard anyway
EvilToasterElf
Posts: 1,119
Life Everlasting
A host of angels shouted prayers, to the unforgiving masses
who reared their heads to face the glare, from the setting sun that passes.
All through the world a hush was heard, as the plague-winds shivered,
but into their lair with a vacant stare, cupid dragged his quiver.
Without warning a flock of doves ascended from a snowy field.
A hunter lay there in the brush, unloading waves upon waves of steel.
But what he craved that day was saved, and a great white arrow flew,
fluttering in the winter breeze, yet faster than any wind that blew.
As darkness enfolds the world of man, the dawn awaits the fall of night,
while in their beds the souls do rest, arming for glorious battle.
The seraphim lay hands on them, whose dreams soothe and delight.
As the day transcends gray skies, waters of life swim smoothly by,
but despair at last should not relapse, for victory comes with the light.
Thousands times thousands of evil thoughts loom, visions wandering in the gloom
while sitting on a blackened perch, whispering softly some vile curse.
Despite the deeds of unbelievers, they cannot assuage their mortal doom,
blanketed by thoughtless sleep, only legacy defends the home.
But though for our errors we most atone, we surely will not die alone.
Man is but child of the sun, of supernovas and galactic organs
donated until our time is done, when they too will pass to cosmic orphans.
Though we diminish from a creature of substance, there still yet is hope,
The essence that we radiate, the warmth that we emote
rides solar winds on photon waves, to rise another Morning.
A host of angels shouted prayers, to the unforgiving masses
who reared their heads to face the glare, from the setting sun that passes.
All through the world a hush was heard, as the plague-winds shivered,
but into their lair with a vacant stare, cupid dragged his quiver.
Without warning a flock of doves ascended from a snowy field.
A hunter lay there in the brush, unloading waves upon waves of steel.
But what he craved that day was saved, and a great white arrow flew,
fluttering in the winter breeze, yet faster than any wind that blew.
As darkness enfolds the world of man, the dawn awaits the fall of night,
while in their beds the souls do rest, arming for glorious battle.
The seraphim lay hands on them, whose dreams soothe and delight.
As the day transcends gray skies, waters of life swim smoothly by,
but despair at last should not relapse, for victory comes with the light.
Thousands times thousands of evil thoughts loom, visions wandering in the gloom
while sitting on a blackened perch, whispering softly some vile curse.
Despite the deeds of unbelievers, they cannot assuage their mortal doom,
blanketed by thoughtless sleep, only legacy defends the home.
But though for our errors we most atone, we surely will not die alone.
Man is but child of the sun, of supernovas and galactic organs
donated until our time is done, when they too will pass to cosmic orphans.
Though we diminish from a creature of substance, there still yet is hope,
The essence that we radiate, the warmth that we emote
rides solar winds on photon waves, to rise another Morning.
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