Lavender Nightsky

A poem never meant to meet its instigator

A word lost in the very power of speech

Diverging from what we like to call Creator

I let my thoughts bleed and beseech

My spirit,a reflection,weaker than ever

a soul that constructs its own altar to burn

And as I put trust on my final endeavour

I prayed once more for Belphegor's return

For I was satisfied once in my ignorance

I hadn't known my wings were of wax

My exposure was soon followed by decadence

And gently my wings melted from facts

I wished long for destruction and anguish
But when plague came on my Stranger's way,

I felt empty like I'd never been selfish

Enough to flee from my judgment day

By my own mind I am declared outcast

For my heinousness it's late to repent

Only sailing accross the oceans of past

Keeps me alive in the mire of present