Burn It All

Burn it all.

 

It’s always the plan as the fire licks the photograph, as the ink becomes part of the ashes

 

above the symbolic grave covered in the wine dedicated to the Goddess of death upon this day that is

 

dark as night, as the sun sets so does the flames into a puddle of smudged black soot drowned in the

 

red liquid that signifies the end of life and the cutting of ties, unbound are the bonds that tied so tight,

 

unbound are the lines of love and lust and lies, unbound is all that was held dear until a rotting corpse of

 

life drowned in the sewers of reality, free runs the child across the skies of dreams, free runs the mother

 

of life, free runs the hearts of those whom have suffered upon a sinking hell of never ending nightmare,

 

the end of days and end of things unproductive, come the end of rotten times and abuse and sorrow,

 

come the end of all that was begun upon the devils dozen, come now see the sun set behind the

 

darkness that hides it rays as the wine sinks into the clay and soaks the replica that rots upon the earth

 

that worms avoid, come now we must end this festering sore upon thiy face, as the little flame raises in

 

the wind the darkness moves within and the power of the fire is brought undone and all that once was

 

before has now been forgotten as the light fades.

 

 

Burn it all.

 

MM

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