Unnamed #1
by Crimson X
Slowly my Eyes flutter,
As if that of a shutter,
And I quietly mutter,
“I must kill them all,
Before the great fall,
Or everything will taste of gall.”
Death is not the end,
But just another journey to pend,
Just do your best to fend,
For sleep I will,
In black fields till,
My dreams, and the nights comforting chill,
They are of high number,
And you fall like great lumber,
Into the eternal slumber.
