could you hear me God as I'd become to die,, blood clotting around slit wrists, bleeding of clenched fists,, that it would be in the salvation within the lie,, all of the end waiting to hear your quiet voice,,,, of all that would remain as I would sit in the flames,, that you owe me another apology for your son to blame,,,, it is growing, it is horror driven inside -- when we smile as we die,,,, waiting among the fires within our entombed sleep,, could we hear the weeping, crying and gnashing teeth,,, that we could hear the screams of those who were buried alive,,,, claustrophobic molestings from the demons and devils,,, the division of the horror, all that would be the driven,,,, could we see the entombment, among the final sacrements,,, that it would be the closing emotions in my mind, among the fears and the nightmares -- inkarcerate,,, closing with the liquid death in the veins, asphyxations, the closing dreams among the excutioners gurny,,, among the dreams that would be waiting to die,, the blood slowly clotting around the organs,, forclosure, the forclosing inside among the waiting,,,,, of the comatosed invitations, that would be the initiations,,, that it would be when the sleep arrives one shall burn with me,,,, that in the sleep of the jester's ball, that one would come one come all,,, that it would be the coma's waiting when the whispers reflect their voice,,,,, of the black, that would be the black teethed smiles -- that it would chosen,,, in the lies spoken by you God, you owe me a fucking apology,,,, a dream when the winters angels shall sleep,,, that when they are all looking at you, when they are looking among the dead,,,, waiting that would be in the lies of the jester's prophets,, "before you die, listen to me -- don't buy into the lie,,," that it would be in the waiting dying -- that it would be among the illness,,,, among the brokened, forclosing on a false prophet's healing,,,, that you would grow numb, that would be when one's flesh begins to discolour,,,, that when they would be the waiting ones of the lie,,,, the cremation fires would rise higher still, another waiting fear,,,, among the nightmares closing among the dying years,,,,,, waiting among the bleeding, left forned -- frozen among the words -- listen to me, said thy prophet cometh,,, waiting to come another year -- that you were never here,,, passion plays would meet their end, that in the words of no one,,,, could we close our eyes again, awaiting to obey,,,,, among the damnation flames, told never to sin -- in God's command,,,, among the harrowed souls, do we see our damnating years that would be in the burial of the living, no one can hear the screams,,,, waiting for the apology that I would never have,,, listening to the liars known as the holier-than-fucking-thou-messengers-of-God,,,,, judgement day -- the end of everything is only the beginning,,,,, closing our eyes again for the death of the beginning,,, that the angel of demise looking on from the blackest shadows,, that the Devil of the mind shows his black-toothed smile,,, among the nightmares flowing would be the blood coving the snow,,,,,, waiting for the healing that would never be, they would never see,,,, in the nightmares written, the nightmares rising -- souls turning to stone,,, shadows to ashes, blood to bone, among the lights of the waning moon,,, salvation seeked would be never found when they pray to something,,, in truth they think that they are the chosen ones, raping of the minds,,,,, among the words written, would be the shadows of the paradise lost,,,,, that it would be it would be the horrors would be, ashes to ashes -- blood to blood,,,, that among the written, among the shunned -- messiahs of the blind had never came,,,, all who would be lost in the forlorned rapture, all the would be remain the same,,,, words of the shunned, that would be the keeper of the years -- blacker understandings,,,, closing, burying alive the keeper of the spheres, that it would be in the shadowed years,,,,, the horrors inside, among the paranoias crawling a'mong the years -- dreams of the eternal seer,,,, in the liquified death flowing from the interveinal cords, one step closer to the dying,,, immortality denighed, that it would be the sentence to one to play God -- "your life would end today." playing the God, who would be the one who given life and now it is taken away,,, in the questions that would remain, shall the one who is told to die would ever rest in peace,,,,, among the words closing in, the nightmares rest -- it would be in the words forloned, waiting for the salvation of sins that would be never forgiven, birth in confusion,,, that it would be the reflection of the words from father to son, that the son would never see,,, in the dreams written from son to father, the nightmares shall never cease to rest,,, among the words written in the death of the jester and the journals of the media martyr,,,,, of the forebod'ng prophecies that would be the keeper of the eternal years,,,, among the foreboding prayers that we see the horrors that are yet to be heard,,,, among the horrors that are shunned in the lies of the spreading illness,,, that are to be the written, that are to be the shunned -- that would be the horror forlorned,, in the closure, among the salvation of denial, that it would be the dreams from the death, a demise induced by the thoughts of the ones who play god, thinking they are the messiah of all,,, all that is left for me, that would be the webs of torture -- that I cannot look in the face of God,,,,