Soul Collector Poem by Chaarzarul Rockett

Upon waking, I could smell the roses
Calling me to their thorns
I clutched one of them, and felt their pain
And asked God, 'Why was I born? '

And then, I saw the light above
The Sun, Moon, and Stars
I felt the ground beneath my feet
And history showed me scars.

Scars of men, gathering roses
To place above their beds
In the slumbering sweetness of lust
The price of such, their heads

So, I gained knowledge, I knew fear
I walked a many miles
To find the answer lying still
Like angry crocodiles.

For, I am the answer, I am the truth
I am the vessel to carry the way
And those who die may not follow me in life
But, in slumbering death, they may.