The sun set, filled the night with gloom
Stars were crucified across my room
I steal a glance at the settings sun
I see flickering shadows I cannot shun
A wraith drifting in the mortal realm
A devil steering at the ship’s sinking helm
A ghost searching, an ethereal form
A memory forgotten lost in a storm
Hope will be ash, scattered on the wind
Bloody reaping, a wing clipped and pinned
On a crimson canvas, gasping for breath
Gloriously proclaim: I'm the Chosen of Death
No mortal can harness my will to die
I climb the smoke to the land above the sky
In blissful heavens. Mortal, stay where you are
I set my hearth ablaze to warm the dying stars
Maxwell O'Reilly
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