White Roses Under A Blackened Sun by Omnicide
a decrepit scenery lying before my eyes,
withering as the sun's slowly blackening,
day by day. Hanging on the seventh cross,
violent rays sear my skin, bloody sweat is dripping
from forehead to soil. A desolate desert draining
mankind
and still white roses firmly bloom despite this cursed
sun,
a wreath comely encircling my site of martyrdom.
singular symbol of resistance to the blackened sun
whose torturous shine eating away my anima.
Hope long unmasked as the sly plague (that) it is,
The mind: burst in myriad pieces, not unlike
faerie dust softly blowing away in a gentle breeze.
I embrace this laughter of madness that echoes
through my weakened mind let it be my strength
Beneath this heaven so bleak.
I Subject the mania
to bring clairvoyance
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