Love Dies
Smiles, emanating from the picnic's location in the middle of the wilderness,
a place where Hel remained but the sun was a bright shield from her kiss...
and filled the trees and created bliss in the form of His jovial, wrinkled face,
but she laid in wait, combing her hair with a sinner's rib cage
on the end of days.
They crossed the path, over the cemetary basking with warm memories of cold picnics,
skeptical to the reincarnation, for their thoughts intruded in the form of old snippets...
Now, wicked strands of Hel's hair crossed over the plain in the form of dead tree groves,
that abolished all hopes of the protection, with goes to show how deep the lava flowed.
True, Love Dies, and the rock then hardens into magma, that bursts out with great force,
as Death and Pestilence rode over the cemetary, the horsemen radiating the sad source
of war over the lands of the once proud, where men preached in increasing numbers...
where volcanoes of Hel laid in wake to erupt from the hibernation of their eternal slumber.
He cleared His throat, searching for words that would be heard throughout Hel's domain,
and the eleven around him whispered, hearing the ghosts howl and shake their chains.
The wind whistled as the disciples clasped the bible and followed the spiraling path,
that always accompanies the tortured souls on their way with a hoarse, sinister laugh.
He strolled proudly, not detouring down the winding course, adhering so selflessly,
in the cemetary, a place where none of the ruthless, pampered, and sheltered see.
They followed behind him sluggishly, and with sheepish expressions they copied his actions,
trying to remain happy and retain the power that was born from their ancient magics,
and it was tragic, that some thing like this happened to one of the most loyal disciples,
who rose covered in maggots at the sound of his name uttered, but was in denial.
For who would return to bless Lazarus, other than the deep-rooted love of his fellow siblings?
Returning to the family without eternal shame and sticking to the shadows to be forever hidden?
Flesh-ridden with the maggots that would turn into flies,
he heard, "Us," as they muttered. "Lazarus, Love Never Dies."
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