Anastasia Mortmain
Roses, pages, feelings,
Everything burns.
There are so many beings
That thrives on the nocturnes.
There is emptiness around us,
No bird dares to sing,
No one dares to make a fuss,
No one moves a wing.
The emptiness around us,
We listen to the teachers,
We listen to them talk.
They sound to us like preachers.
We kiss the ground on which they walk.
We follow all their bindings,
Everything is blank,
Blank to the point of blindness.
Just as I think I am mindless,
Something touches my flank.
I whip around with lightning speed,
The snow keeps falling anyway,
No matter how nature wants to thrive.
It lays on leaves and trees and shrubs
Covering them all the way.
The snow keeps falling anyway
Violence for violence, that's the rule of beasts,
But no one thinks that is the rule of humans.
We are the same as the beasts in the woods,
We just hide our teeth from others.
The trees grow high,
Nearly touching the sky.
Tons, their bodies weigh
And be just gods they may.
They look upon us from their height,
The devil has come to take me away
Not even looking at the leaves’ sway
As now I swear that they will be bare
Leaving the light to the nightly mare
Hades takes me away to his dearly home
How do you kill a god?
That is a hard question to answer.
They are immortal, ageless,
They will never die.
But what if you make them suffer?
When famine comes to feed on us
We fight it just like life taught us,
We go from one field to another
In hope that we could feed our brother.
We roam the fields in light and dark,
Darkness drips off your fingers
Covering the floor with pools of blood.
There have been so many figures,
Most now laying in the mud.
So many lives were lost,
Envy,
Can not be friendly.
Pain,
Can be in vain.
Sadness,
Can become madness.
