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Shores Of Desolation
by
While Heaven Wept
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A call to the sea, To cleanse my soul of ill; Of hate and depression, be freed, My fate, thus fulfilled. Summon me forth, the sussuration Of the blackest tides; No longer the shores of emptiness Shall I tread infinietly inside. Frigid, mournful winds Travels the black chasms of my soul Awaiting sweet death, I will again be whole Tumultuous waters extract me from This mortality to which I'm bound; Evolved from the body, useless Time expired, futile life drowned.
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