I Am No Saint

I am no saint, I know my taint, my rage and anger so

No sorrow here, no tears do I know

I have tried and found I can not cry, I can not shed a single tear out of sadness or the dread of fear

No, all I know is the tide of anger, that endless rage that marches ever forward, flowing ever towards

Inexorable and unending, never stopping never starting simply being from the beginning

Born with red in my eyes and blood on my hands, dark thoughts spawned by wishing of dark deeds

My anger, my rage, it wishes to feed

Unending, unchanging, the rage is like a tide

Sorry my dear but it never goes out but only comes in

High tide getting higher, the rage growing deeper

The high ground of calm getting ever steeper

I feel naught else it seems, no joy, no sorrow

Just enough rage that I’ve more than enough to let the others borrow

So taste of the wine, taste of this madness of mine, enjoy the rage, enjoy the drink

Let this blood bring you to the furthest brink, till the shore does darken and you feel like you’re out at sea

With nothing but the dark waters and stars to keep you company

Watch that blood red water cover you over, drag you deep

Feel it crush your bones and squeeze your lungs

Know that you are for the Rage to keep

Let this happen, go out to that sea

And then, and then you’ll know what it’s like

What is like to be me

I am no saint, no no saint at all

I’ve enough rage, enough taint to make everyone, to make us all do nothing

Nothing but fall


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