Zed Aliz Zed The Half-Phoenix, Half-Human Life-God
Posted: 18 Jun 2017 12:44
Disturbing,
fantasy filled realities
swirl around as He pulls me deeper.
Deeper into the thickening mists,
upon which is projected
the lies which He feeds me.
And sometimes these mists take the forms that they seem,
and I see them as I’ve seen them or I see you or me.
Let me not be mistaken,
His threats have proven real.
But He says I must follow for I accepted his deal.
So I follow Him down ‘nto the abyss deep below,
dark daggers are digging deep into my soul.
Sick promises of happiness,
propped up by crutches,
they’re filled with unmentionable acts,
a happiness of insanity.
He!
He who is there when there is no one.
He! Who is there when I’m overwhelmed.
Promising bliss after the fall,
encouraging the desperation that will take me there.
He who is called God by those who believe,
He who is called nature by those more like me.
But the nature of thoughts,
the nature of humans,
follows a pattern.
So worship your God, but you’re worshiping me,
worshiping yourselves.
And while you’re worshiping me,
He’s watching me,
waiting for the next valley to come.
So that He can cover me with His blankets,
and play the old “I told you so!”
“How about a proposition...
I’ll bring you up,
if you let me drag you back down”
He says while I writhe on the ground in remorse.
And for me this is only the beginning.
fantasy filled realities
swirl around as He pulls me deeper.
Deeper into the thickening mists,
upon which is projected
the lies which He feeds me.
And sometimes these mists take the forms that they seem,
and I see them as I’ve seen them or I see you or me.
Let me not be mistaken,
His threats have proven real.
But He says I must follow for I accepted his deal.
So I follow Him down ‘nto the abyss deep below,
dark daggers are digging deep into my soul.
Sick promises of happiness,
propped up by crutches,
they’re filled with unmentionable acts,
a happiness of insanity.
He!
He who is there when there is no one.
He! Who is there when I’m overwhelmed.
Promising bliss after the fall,
encouraging the desperation that will take me there.
He who is called God by those who believe,
He who is called nature by those more like me.
But the nature of thoughts,
the nature of humans,
follows a pattern.
So worship your God, but you’re worshiping me,
worshiping yourselves.
And while you’re worshiping me,
He’s watching me,
waiting for the next valley to come.
So that He can cover me with His blankets,
and play the old “I told you so!”
“How about a proposition...
I’ll bring you up,
if you let me drag you back down”
He says while I writhe on the ground in remorse.
And for me this is only the beginning.

