The dance of death lingers near,
Whispering in your ear,
Pulling slightly at your leg,
Sharping deaths old blade,
Digging through the cold wet ground,
Sneaking up without a sound,
Piling on the dirt,
Making every moment hurt.
Whispering in your ear,
Pulling slightly at your leg,
Sharping deaths old blade,
Digging through the cold wet ground,
Sneaking up without a sound,
Piling on the dirt,
Making every moment hurt.
Post a Comment
Be the first to comment on this article!