Shatter

In my dreams darkness looms.
A haven where the unholy worship a dying sky,
and life is an endless suffering.

A man sits on a ledge;
an amber bottle in one hand,
and a gun with a plan in the other.

I don't know him.
His eyes are ink black,
on a powder white face,
with raven black hair.

He parts his lips;
blood drips out, staining his ghostly lips.

Skeleton hands stretch out,
grasping a shadow throat.

He is cold and weak with an overwhelming urge
to claw out his wretched heart.

Composure cracked, showing a cryptic past
and a tear stained face revealing a tragic vision of his life:

A young boy being skinned alive,
praying for an end that will never come.
His father is too intoxicated to help,
and god cannot see through the shadows of hate and misery.

In this darkness
crimson rain falls
cause him to slip
and crash down

Shattering him into a thousand pieces.