After the grave

See it see him or her the criminal who purified the body from life.
Without burial no wings care burst from the spine.
No final rights read to decide the color of afterlife's alignment.

Not even sure on how many decades it is in a second when we are walking on the twilight plane.
The final chapters on the personal Revelations are open tragedies that were meant to be nothing.
There will be no light at the end of the tunnel when the two worlds collide from the core in the mind.

Better than yet so let the wings dig into Micheal's smiting voice.
Deceit and lies that they feed are unbendable in the momentum of scripture.
Shall we relay rules set for man to questions as from why they are in existence?

My fear awakens when the whispers in the walls wont stop slithering their deafening truth.
Pretentious soul give me the golden weapon so these universal dimensions can explain a little deeper.
I'd aim it at the organ that locks all the silver barren doors and squeeze the trigger.