Hands Full of Bone Dust


Impetuous radiance
Illuminates the night sky.
And without a sound
My flesh begins to boil.

When life is pulled from my body,
Will I enter the nothingness?

Will I burn in hell?
Or will I grow wings and fly back to those nights of innocence, eternal?
Will my spirit walk the misty paths of the old growth forest?
Or will I enter The Hall of the Fallen, swords sheathed, pain released.
All I know is that I'll still be here even after this earth is scorched.
When time has become irrelevant.
In the ruins painted of bone dust.
In the deep blue of the seas.
For always...
Forevermore...

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