Death lie’s beneath the grave, howling too be let out
It screams it does, the wind tosses the leaves around like rag dolls,
In a spiral of decay it twists and turns them.
Like a puppet we are all bound too the powers of the world we live in, death lingers in the air as the grave digger walks walks through the dawning tree’s, as the world turns the corpses claw out of there humble domain, scratching there ways out , clutching on too the hope of that one day they will once will see the dawn as it once was.
The pale face see’s everything, the screams of the tormented, eco through the black obis, as the wolfs howl in agony.
Vampires slink back into the shadows, as the wind twists & turns the world through time. The dead limp & lifeless in there coffin’s
As the skeleton man creeps through the shadows, searching, grasping for the sweet souls of the decaying, he lingers he does, he waits & hovers among the doors of the dead , waiting for fresh blood to drip down innocent flesh.
The witch’s are is eyes too this world, wolves are his pets, and the vampires are his minions retrieving the souls of the damned.
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