Idk why the fuck why, but I wanted to write some poetry shit so here it goes:
Slate white marble, contorted into a pedestal
Where the martyrs soul stands
Alone, in the altar of the mutilated.
As the stigmatas of the hands deepen,
and the rich crimson blood falls to the cold stone ground,
the soul rips into two, and the cords of it's spirit split.
The energy cascades into the empty space above,
and ascends to the gates of Heaven, only to find the gates closed,
and the angels hostile.
Meeeeeh wtf dude it's like 2 a.m. ugh bed. Bubye :p