Darkness is mine,
The here and thereafter.
Shadowed for all time,
Like my winged creatures in thier rafters.
The moon in full bloom,
The crisp smell of decay,
Death does here loom,
Waiting for it's day.
All I see here in the dark,
Is my domain, my lair.
The tombstones do mark,
Our inevitability, so beware.
I never want to be the person I once was,
Powerless and full of fear.
I embrace the darkness now because,
It is now, I, whom they fear.
Dead as I may be,
There still might be some light.
This you'll have to accept of me,
Because for me, it feels so right
© Copyright By Scott L. McPherson
How I do love the night,
It brings me such pleaure.
The absense of light,
Is something I treasure.
The feel of the cool air,
With a little whip of the wind,
Take away my despair,
My troubles now rescind.
In the stillness I sit,
With ecstacy as such,
I never want to leave it,
I love it so much.
But there's a missing part,
Of my world of night,
Someone close to my heart,
My maiden, I her knight.
The darkness is best shared,
Where individualism twists and bend.
Two to one souls bared,
In life's journey, to it's end.
So in the darkness I wait,
Peace and serenity console me,
Til I find my soulmate,
To share the nights journey.
© Copyright By Scott L. McPherson
The sepulchre shook violently, then fell off its mound,
Long hook-like claws, grappled and raked into the dirt.
Pulling itself up and out of the once hallowed ground,
Now stood a demon, head lifted high, senses on full alert.
It had been eons since it had tread upon this land,
Long since it had tasted the pleasure of human torment.
Now it was loose from hell and here it would take souls to brand,
Marking them his, and in his rampage, his anger would vent.
He was gray in color, like rotting flesh, out of the grave, just did fall,
And muscular in build, with large wings and horns on his head.
His eyes, gleamed demented viciousness, hatred for one and all,
Wanting only to see, each and everyone of us, dead.
Loosed upon the earth, it takes now to the air,
With an unending hunger, never to be satisfied.
It lives for blood, and for the dispersal of despair,
And won’t quit, until ultimately, each of us has died.
We are the hunted, we now, are the prey,
Evil will have its time, He’ll see it through.
Even with your prayers lifted, every day,
In the end, the demon’s still coming for you.
© Copyright By Scott L. McPherson
The lake of fire, burning red and so hot,
The damned scream in anguish and pain,
Souls tortured and twisted as if into knots,
Down, the brimestone, falls like rain.
Tormented souls languish in the fire,
Your worst fears, there you will find,
Paying for their evil and earthly desires,
A scene far too incomprehensible, for the mind.
Death, they thought, was the end,
But it’s only the beginning,
Into Hell, they did descend,
And pay for all their sinning.
With that, the mind does wonder,
If living, after all, was really a gift,
And leaves you to think and ponder,
If for your mistakes, in the lake of fire you’ll drift.
It seems, for death, you have a choice too,
The choice is made while you are living,
It is all up to you and only you,
The reward, the Lord, to you, will be giving.
© Copyright By Scott L. McPherson
War will ravage the land,
Fear will spread like fire,
Natural disasters at hand,
Will come the great liar.
Spread of disease will come fast,
Quickly, injustice he’ll dispense,
Righteousness he’ll outcast,
Embracing all ignorance.
Thousand years his reign,
Only terror will be known,
No pleasure just pain,
In the seeds we have sown.
Has the time actually come,
We’ll just have to see,
It is believed by some,
But not by the likes of me.
But watch for the dark angel to fly,
The time is not far off,
In that time, you too will cry,
So go ahead, sneer and scoff.
© Copyright By Scott L. McPherson
