Golgotha

I have trouble drinking this cup
Bitter wine, sour smell

Fatal taste
Crown of thorns on my heart

I am afraid of my fate
Pain and torment on my soul

Of leading others to their doom.
Cruel wine, death so fine

As to torture man.
Alone under a cliff

I see past and future collide-
A spider ship, it's mottled skin

Shining glossy obsidian,
Purple energy gushing out...

Destroying it's quarry.
War machine so worrying,

I must and can't fight you
Nor can I stop fate

Despite my wishes, my hopes
I must drink this cup.

This page created on 10 March, 1998

This page was updated on 10 March, 1998

By Michelle Laura Kinane, Resident Bitchgirl, and a girl who likes to stand under cliffs......

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