Andromeda The Devil’s Violin

Beyond the observed an epidemic plagues the blissful hands of Andromeda
The sad sight screening dying stars screaming
As supernovas pierce that beautiful moon-lit sky

In view a soul lost within the obligations tattered to his own lucid sanity
For filled with vanity is this life thankfully
Seeing as how falsified sentiments make dying, like those stars, an ungraceful thing
I wish I had more time to digress but nothing is as it seems…

War torn is this body and the ever so act of reasoning

Still, there is but one journey this old severed soul needs to make
Because in my years I have played the role as God’s grand Inquisitor
Inquiring heaven’s purpose and my means to exist
Yet, only gardens grew, as well as did the sun shine thusly so and benign

Although trick question…
How does one question that which knows all?
It’s sort of like challenging fate wouldn’t you say?
Nevertheless I ask, what would say life be like without an end of days

…glorious I believe some would pray

However, being awake without a means to sleep could be maddening
Frightening, down right daunting, agonizing and more
As all would fade but you…you…which is holy would remain
Lonesome together echoing with pain
So much pain that only your will to love and to create may aid

Therefore, intensify the sun among a fortified hopeful embrace

To burn brightly because, all you may ever know is a dark dismay
Creating to have anything but nothing to forever stay
And despite thy efforts turmoil’s lackluster light shall only lay
For, ages and eons as your creation’s destiny is to waste away

…Such a joy to have this sweet fruit known as death as my calling
Since falling into eternity is something like walking into a golden prison
And, I will leave that to a foolish God

Understand, that we are perhaps simply whispers
Beloved for a short time by a lonely omnipotent being
So, Sound the devil’s violin that plays a keynote to this fiddle’s scripted dying creed

~ Paradise’s Poet ~