A little less insanity, or more...

For Unto Crimson Kolours

Wings to soar above the skies,
To reach the heavenly bliss that one being can only witness…

Why, oh why, God, do you give these feelings to the fragile mortals,
whose life hangs in a balance of love and hate?
Why do You torment us with Your divine grace?

You send guardians of the paranormal; to watch over us,
while The Evil One sends his own saints.
Why does life have to be so hard?

I feel myself fading, into a blackness,
that is surrounded with screams of the forsaken,
and then an eternal whiteness, harmony and serenity.

As the hardships in life reveal themselves,
we can only turn to our saint or guardian, and accept it,
for we are only mortal; weak and needing guidance.