“Killing Fields.”

On this killing field I have come to die
To myself, to you and to the cause
All good things must come to an end
And with darkness falling, so comes the rain upon my grave.

But when almost all hope is lost
Death is a gift, not the end
It is actually the beginning
For this is where eternity awakens.

Immortality is at our fingertips
You cannot kill what is already dead
Inches into oblivion, on the playground of infinity
All bets are off in this hallowed place.

I have walked into your firing squad more than once
Your snipers pointed at my head
But this time I laid down my life
Which means that I may pick it up at will.

The story didn’t end with his expiration on the cross
Death, hell and the grave were only conduits of transition
In the quiet lies the greatest stride
The crusher of all enemies in sight.

2 responses to ““Killing Fields.””

  1. Thank you for writing this.

    1. Thank you for reading it!

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