• jerchosteele 13w

    Apocalypse

    Our souls speak the same ancient tongue,
    Old, forgotten and sacred.
    You read the hieroglyphics in my mind,
    With your lovely, all seeing eye.
    I laid on your beautiful ceremonial table,
    Poised to give you my life at the altar every night.
    The most willing of sacrificial lambs,
    I longed to meet my maker at your hands.
    Who knew my captivating messiah,
    Was just a false prophet.
    ©jerchosteele