He beat apon my stoney grave,
he beat apon my forgotton home.
'tis the best gift he ever gave,
to just leave me here, frozen, alone.
This winter holds my lifeless fingers,
with a breath of hope on the air.
What was once his word i hoped to linger,
bacame a song luring me to the lair.
Dreams once before became unknown,
"you will be hunted" said voice without name.
"No paths of happiness you will be shown,
you will now be killed without my blame..."
It was not swift, the nightmare remains,
bruised and bloodied deep within this soul.
He shall forever be felt crawling through veins,
With hands that are now scarred by coal...
Matakushi Ginovev 99
· Wed Oct 15, 2008 @ 11:29pm · 0 Comments