My religion isn't a belief in God
And it isn't one in the Devil
I don't worship these
The heavens or hell-holes.
I worship Death
I worship The Mother
I cradle the release
Like I cradle no other!
The only thing determined in life
That's the thing I worship:
Living here on Earth, with her,
And then descending
From this God Damned snake pit
My priest?
Death preaches
My teacher?
It's the last breath,
Pretty suicide speeches
I bow down
To the savior
Suffocation.
The coffin.
Satin black sheets.
All the lacy layers and layers.
It's holy matrimony
As I marry the dead one
A Grim Reapstress
The very best one
It's through my acrimony
My ceremony
My dance with Death
A date.
© copyright 2018-2024 Flower Dead in the Garden
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
creepy and intriguing- good scare/good write
Julia ~ I appreciate the feedback, thx for this. It is always nice to be appreciated no matter how bizarre something may sound. Much love. Xx NDS