Memories Like Vultures...

Like an earthquake these vultures violate my right to rest through the night,
They carry me into the blue of the night as thick fog rises from the ground,
A total unrest in the inside to portray confusion on the outside,
Ages had passed, it was a dawn of a new age but grace wasn't abound yet ,
As I sigh in depression, the sight of these vultures strangle my strength to fight,
The moon above testifies of the tests that I couldn't stand their taste hence my fail,
It matters no more how much towards the right direction I have trodden,
This right here is a definition of a torn and tortured heart, these vultures...

The pages my action had written tells the tales that only hell can inspire,
Each page reads a different form of destruction to fashion hearts so broken,
Every letter lets out drops of tears that stand for various pains and aches,
All punctuation proclaim the bloodshed and lives that faded in my hands,
The man in the mirror proves the man in the mirror is not as ugly as they say,
A soul darkened by death only caused by detrimental action to humanity,
Yes, my sins demand justice for my deeds, mercy weeps but not in my defense,
I will stand to be judged today, bury my head and burn my body alive

These memories dig me deep past my grave past the gates into the pits of hell,
They yell to me, death to my body isn't enough, torture to my soul is just the start,
They still call for my demise when I can die no more, vengeance does not grow fat,
Its a caress of eternal torture, swimming and drowning in the lake of fire,
Today fractures of my being can stand no more, I hold a tongue tired of explaining,
Whether you have sinned or not cast a stone to curse my breathing,
A great lesson to behold, if your tears aren't blood but more than water,
Then it is not strong enough to write the pages of your history

(c) 2014 Anduvate Ray Solomon