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#colour 'Come with me', he said, 'and I'll take you to a place Where fear and pain and loneliness can gently be replaced You may well be on your knees, but I will help you stand All you have to do...
In an empty field I look with a stare, The autumn trees are beautiful, such vibrant flare . Yet, in the right of my vision I feel a glare, It cuts me deep, with a icy stare.
He wonders through the grave yard, He doesn't mourn a soul- He is the undead minder He's there to charge the tole.
A dark and dreary day of sorrow and gray, with a man grieving his lover’s death. How he wished he felt her final breath; his absence an untimely regret.
Day after day, I pray, these visions in my head will go away. Not to mention I don't have a say, in which way these horrific events, tend to sway. I look back on it like it was yesterday.
Chapter 7 The Crone The bells tolled their mournful song across the flooded graves. The sky wept at the open procession. Six young men and women laid to rest this day.
There, the battered musical box stood, on the dusty mahogany table. It plays you a tune, a haunting melody that seemingly, slowly rips your mind of its sanity.