D E A D I N S I D E

 

Ghosts host him in the night and put him to sleep,
To sleep with sad tear-less eyes tearing down the path of hope,
A hope in humanity that now lay beneath empty walls,
Walls that crumbled at the mercies of a brother who stuck
His heart naked in the path of a bullet and fired away.

Thats when his angelic nature fermented into evil deeds,
To feed on the hearts and souls of both the innocent and the rotten,
To bring to an end the aspect of loyalty in friendships, to manifest
The truth that man was born to be betrayed into pain for even
In the spiritual realm Lucifer dared back-stab God the father.

Through his eyes the earth is filled with dead men dancing in graves,
Wines do not sooth his stomach, only cold blood extracted from fresh caskets
Can cool his thirst. A beating heart makes a good meal
For with each passing minute the venom within his veins evaporates
His blood that once carried mercy so that only fangs are left.

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