Northern Dawn

Torched souls fight for freedom erupting in my voice.
Who has touched The Great Nothingness with both hands and overstood the sensation.
To be invisible is my claim to fame.
Nameless, roaming the earth aimless among faceless scavengers.
They want my flesh - dead or alive,
They rip it of my back as I sleep.
They want my blood and all that flows inside,
They sip it as it drips black from my eternal deep.
Flashes of red and yellow streak the night sky over in heaven.
The angels are amused by the hellfire I create.
Aurora Borealis - solar side effects to my sparked Panatelas.
Habitual inhalation - I stand nude in the night with my sword in hand awaiting Satan.
His existence is dependent on my remembrance.
Inadvertent tears mark my Quest for independence.
The messiahs deliverance is contingent on my forgiveness.
With faith I put one foot in front of the other not knowing where the end is.

Hank Tate '03