She takes a deep breath
and steps through the door...
When I was at the age of six,
My mom told me a tale...
I've never believed in God, yet i take his name in...
The love and hate he shares for you, to me is all...
Put on your boots and head to the door.
Try to look back, because you wont see it anymore...
Right here right now
We stand...
In my theater made of ice
Dark music dances crossed my stage...
Sunlight ricochets from the razor wire onto
The dead empty wine bottle pointing North...
Seconds remain before I shall leave and enter...
I challenge you all to keep this message inside...
I drift listlessly through the nebuli
colors explode chaotically around me...
The Death Of Imagination
By Mark Spencer...
...and the shadow faced effigy,
opened wide its maw of death...
Fighting for what we believe is right,
Disabling my enemies so that they can't fight...