Empty notebooks were all he sought
To unleash his mind so distraught
Bury burdens before he’s caught
Stench of past thoughts, stench of past thoughts

The sound of his dull quill scratching,
Ink-borne ideas began hatching
Venomous demons detaching
Midnight hatchlings, midnight hatchlings

Sweat from his wrinkled brow dripping
Quills from fountains of ink sipping
His sanity slowly slipping
Parchment ripping, parchment ripping

Dark room lit by quivering flame
Windows abused by fists of rain
Solemn kingdom tarnished with shame
Where he claims reign, where he claims reign

Pulsating with pain, the deed done
His black lies of wickedness spun
His mind clears with the rising sun
Torment begun, torment begun

Tasting the words on his dry lips
Paper trembling in finger tips
Truth begins to make his heart rip
Tales set in crypts, tales set in crypts

Stories laced with decrepit love
Blood thickens in veins tight as gloves
Removed from the purity of doves
Ashes above, ashes above

Blinded by the filth of his soul
Throws the manuscript as a whole
Into the fire went his dole
Charred by coal, charred by coal

Breathing smoke in his ancient lungs
Knowing he had only begun
In his head, evil tales still clung
Oh, how death stung, oh, how death stung