Dreams accursed, fill my mind.
I look for answers all around.
Demons dance, my bones they grind
Playing tunes with misers skin.
They nail my body, to the ground.
Angels dance above my head
I see thier graceful wings
Demons keep me nailed to bed
With creatures, all alone
Their voices, harsh, do sing.
I close my eyes, and pray to God
I know that freedom waits
The Demons bury me under sod
And Prod me with thier spears
My prayers have come to late
The Angels come, they hear my cries.
Mighty are they indeed
I yell at them, the Demons Lie
They can not hear my fears
The Demons grasp them in thier greed.
I weep now for I am dead
and writhing in my hell
The Demons come, and hurt my head
The Angels weep soft tears
for the Mighty, they were, fell.
posted by F.G. Shaw @ 3:04 AM
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