The sky is bleeding his thoughts

he is falling around himself like shattering ash

no one can save him but himself

he stands in ruins

his eyes are cursed

his inner walls are crumbling down

in this sewn together land

pieces of himself whisper

all of the opposite directions for him to take

forever, he walks a shadowed being

a broken thin line of reality that he treads

in this unstable world

each footstep echoes his every sin

but here beneath the bows of the damned

lays a sign

a beating beacon of hope

that maybe all of the dead that stain his hands

may somehow be redeemed

buried without confession

and that he may find a form of heaven and peace

right here inside this night