Exile

By Alta Louw

The pain comes back in tenfold now
as I travel a wasteland of sorrow
Winds of change cut at my skin
and I dread how I'll suffer tomorrow

Worthy once in perfect trust
Bathing there in seas of lust
Fortune, fame - the killing machine
Slow - I watched it swallow my dreams

I bare my cross like the bastard christ
and deceive my foes with pretentious might
But calamity strikes at me consciously
And my soul depletes deliriously

…into the Dark…

Struggling forth through this desert of pain
Strongly compares to my suffering fame
Gone and forgotten - erased from that world
Releasing my heart from the loss I've endured

Barren as this land - a Hero I stand
Into repentance - a Hermit I fall
and soft I feel the sands of time
beneath my weary body crawl

Leisurely the peace of Death
approach my soul with frigid breath
Listless I falter at oblivion's door
yet still - in vanity myself I adore

Copyright © 2008 Alta Louw.  Posted with permission.

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