Here they are; the wicked.
A panic floods the field.
Deliverance; unthinkable.
The play their part, performing oh so well...
With empty cores they carry on
"a twisted soul"
"an apparition"
Born of a beastly brand
They butcher purposely.
"Just have the sense to run away"
Scream to the sky;
Beg for a reason he would allow this.
Look to the sky and say;
We would be better off without this.
We've never felt alive
But non of us will lie
Just when we want to.
We're stuck in this disguise
This leather skin; with eyes
Designed to haunt you.
Do we haunt you?
You're on the other side.