Year of Our Lord
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD...
WE SIT IN REIGNS
OF ONCE GLORIOUS DAYS.
A RULE OF RIGHTEOUS RAGE,
BUT THE KING IS DEAD
LONG LIVE THE PAIN.
WITH A BLADE OF MOONS SHADES
AND DEVIL'S LIVE IN
OUR SOUL'S DEEP DARK MAZE.
WE WAITE FOR THE RETURN OF THE ONE.
THE YEARS IN THE SUN.
WANTING ALL FOR SOMEONE
THE SIGN OF THE HOLLOWED SON.
THE GOD BURNED OF FLESH
AND MONEY SPENT AS A TOKEN FOR ZION'S GRACE.
THE WRITING IS ON A DIRTY WALL.
OUR SINS RUN DEEP
THEY DISTURB THE SLEEP
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD,
TWO THOUSAND AND SOME FOLD.
AND HIS REIGNS RETURN...
TWO THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED NINETY-SIX
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
