You'll only waste your time fearing the reaper
He the master of alleviation, to we the eternal sleeper
Beneath his veil quilted from time, the absolution of age
He the director of life's play, on the all knowing apocalyptic stage
~
There are no happy endings.
Seeing as though this is the start of my story, I feel that it's best to warn you of that now.
So long to the wistful romance...
~
I gaze with hope into each sitting cesspool
I'm trying to invoke the spirit of nostalgia that I've seen nothing but too much of
As I pass the church I see the word "God" and I realize that I was only scanning
"God" I say aloud to re-familiarize myself with its magnanimity
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