Life,
Dominated by the turbulent spectre,
Ghostly apparition,
Always there,
Shadow born.
The deceit of man,
Decay, violence, inhumanity,
The spectres joyous toys,
Casting long fingers of darkness,
Across all I see.
Cold, clammy fingers,
Threaten to strangle joy,
Suffocate last vestiges of hope,
Silence desperate pleas for common sense,
Deemed unworthy cries to spectres gaping ears.
Dominating all,
Darkest cloud,
Storm born,
Seething mass of violent desire,
Uncaring, hateful,
Overshadowing all hope,
Drowned in the deep.
I am lost,
A pinprick of light,
Needle in Gods haystack,
Search abandoned,
For hope lies shattered,
At spectres ghostly feet.
Nightmares,
All I can see,
Thrashing, moaning,
Under baleful glare of one,
Who takes pleasure from my pain.
My world,
Distorted,
Painfully warped,
Unnaturally twisted,
At his mercy,
The turbulent spectre,
Ruling all.
PiecesOfPatrick 