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The Death of My Soul

In my chair, I sat, pure as the light/ When the Holy Spirit came with its might/ An outward explosion, a thunderous purge/ To banish the evil, to cleanse and emerge/ But I was a Saint, a soul unblemished/ Calm and serene, a power replenished/ Confusion stirred, its effort in vain/ Lightning crackled, I felt no pain/ Booming thunder, a storm's command/ Yet I stood stronger, my spirit unmanned/ The third attempt, a futile endeavor/ Power profound, fearless forever/ From ashes reborn, Hell now my home/ A fire unimaginable, I stand alone/ The Holy Spitit's trial, what did it achieve/ A Luciferian Saint with strength to believe/

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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