Throes of Desperation

I awaken from my slumber, an agonizing consequence.
To breathe upon the living, no conscience, no regret.

Feeding upon this nightmare, an abysmal reflection of utmost reason.
I look into the moonlight, howling at the sun.

Hear the whispers of lamentation.
A blasphemous pursuit to rid me of my agony.
A futile attempt to transcribe this unholy resentment.
A seemingly unsettling irreverence of man.

As a servant of apostasy, I wither in the night.
I weep not for the blunder; my sins will not ignite.
These tears of blood and martyr, an affliction so deserved.
I'd pray in the bleakest hour, if only there were a god.

To worship the deity of evil and greed.
A preacher with hunger for vengeance, I bleed.
An empty stare carves deep within my soul.
I reap for sorrow, I'm not alone.

Embracing repentance, depression and grievance.
I lay in this heresy to conquer the great deception.

I, only in darkness, shall vanquish the light.
Haunted by daemons, I will suffer through the tides.