Wrapped in bedsheets the deaths do revengest
The lives they have taken brutally, too soon
were these visciously so removed
And the demons haunt the minds every night
The blood that soaks the conscience will not go
And the torturous whispers maketh pain
Far too much sorrow for the soul to bear
And the spectres remind us constantly
The knotted sheets are the only thing left
With which to soothe the mind, the eye, the heart
Too much grief to bear. And so goodnight all.
Take away the guilt, take away darkness...
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