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Wind rustling, rustling. the moon shivering wet. These little crevices...of defence. Try to reach out..to me indeed. But I am obsoete. This is my land. I own ..it all. Try to run...soon ..to fall.
Let's go out with a bang, And live before the undead die, These empty graves are waiting for you & me, I'm just trying to take my time before I get too comfortable inside where my broken...
Magnified mortal shells, mummified Amongst, A Mutating media In so Those of many which defied Spread wings ,take turns ,finding they All murdered, death ,died Mortified This misfire Testified So...
Death comes for one, She comes for all, A hand outstretched, Answering the souls call. Though Death too, Is one who knows, Taking each on a journey, To the river of souls.
Welcome to The Wonky Donkey, Would you like some pie. We only serve the newly dead, And those who need to cry.
DON'T FEAR THE REAPER BY BLUE OYSTER CULT All our times have come Here but now they're gone Seasons don't fear the reaper Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain..we can be like they are Come on...