Promise,
My loves.
I’d never hurt you like that.
Force you to suffer the process,
Of grieving me.
If I’m gonna die –
Won’t be me.
Not my own hand,
As I attempted decades ago.
My entire philosophy;
Is raging at this dark,
That binds me.
Roaring like our old bestial selves,
In the face of oblivion.
Raging At This Dark, That Binds Me.
