a world with out love, that isnt swell
that dark place, its called hell.
a place where God, learnt to lie.
a place where angels come to die.
dark and scary, monsters do hide.
a lake of souls, forever getting wide.
the master isnt dead, neither alive.
just the ring leader of souls, that has survived.
he trains the dead, he the king.
the souls they scream, to him they sing.
he is evil, dark and broody.
he is the master of pain, when he gets moody.
once your dead, your his to keep.
no matter how much, you beg and weep.
your his soul, you fill his lake.
your spirit is his, and he shall take.
he graps you now, in his dark hand.
he takes you home, to his evil land. |
