12 February 2013
She comes at night, excited to see my face, her cloths stained red, her skin cold as the dead.
She loves me for who I am, warm flesh makes her crave, drained more than once, is my soul too late to save?
I feel so cold now, my skin an ashen gray, touch of the living gone forever, only visions of death wish to stay.
Tremors of chills shake my very core, life among the living, I wish I could restore.
Sin pulls me down, my mind clouded from fear, I wish I would have never invited her death near.
Darkness Visits Me • Opuss № I