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Creepying slowly Over a wasteland,
A Wasteland,Fill'd w/ Hate and Lots Of Sand.

Slowly Wondering,Going Insain,
Hoping Life has a better lane.

Writing Messages in the sand,
Shivering,Quivering,small hand.

Can Anyone hear you dieing Heart,
you look to your left, and see death pushing a cart.

Cart of dead souls,Begging to life once more,
Aginising screams,Yells,and lots of skin torn.

Then you watch as they get dragg'd away,
what you see a mirror,Your dead,no...no can't be.

You run away,Fleeing your life,
When all life is a struggling plite.

Death,Seems to be calling you,
Boney Finger beconing you near.

Seems death message is clear,
your death is drawing near.

One Last"yelp" and Goodbye,
No need, it's death don't be shy.

By Misa-Chan