Patrick Szwaja Poems

On the fields in the shadow of Megiddo

We will rise to stand among the angels
...

people referring to the rest of their lives

make it sound like only seconds
...

oh, but to feel her warm touch

on my cold undead flesh
...

every word has a tinge of you to it

and every blue sky speaks your name
...

there once was a man dressed in shadow

who walked with the stormwinds
...

stack the bodies higher

the world’s engulfed in fire
...

just because i’m up and moving

doesn’t mean i’m done rebooting
...

i want to watch the world burn

in the cleansing flames of love
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anarchy’s ashes have fused chaos wind

the dead fall in line, the priestess of sin
...

i may be miserably drunk

but i know one thing as fact
...