The Apostate

Oh relieve me, for I suffer upon a post inscribed with regrets

The moon does not bleed through the windows of my soul

The nocturne is as long as the abyss is vast above my drooping head, yet I fantasize of Ra’s fiery reach above my mountains of contrition

Oh Vamoose! I am merely a weight upon your scale of fate!

A wretched man for which death awaits, a damned soul bound by hate!

Do not mourn me, beloved fellow, so I may fade in solemnity!

Life has made me bitter in conscience, yet self-effacing, I welcome the rays of creation to deem me reborn from this being to the next.