songs made of whispers silent screams like a choral of the dead needles p____ the softest skin and the breeze screams bloodlust
these eyes gazing over the hilltops burning red
the night skies seem to follow me
blanketing me with crowds of grey and black
the crowd of the d___ed screams

eyes shown red
raise the dead

the breeze screaming over the whispers in the dark
setting the leaves in sway hanging
there like a body from the raftors

smiling back at me they wait in eager circles for me to stagger into the darkness these images that i have seen they still burn inside of me

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