Awaiting the lord's recapulation of pas
days. Angels escorting to what is
believed to be the final resting place.
A lifetime of speculation about to be
realised. An unexpected revelation
from a god who's words have not
known discordance. Contemplation
perverts my image of eternity.
Forgotten texts, denied by the church,
speak the truth. Only the dead now
know the messenger. Excommunicated,
the flock now moves blind east, out
of my kingdom. Due to our denial of
the saint, all now shall suffer the fate
sentenced to me. Scalding winds of
pain encircling in tormet everlasting
shall be.
