deathsong103

The games you create, Are twisted, And cruel, All the while, Trying to make me a fool, Think I don't know the rules? I do. Every twist, Every turn, Every secret in the mist, Trying to blind ones eye, With sod stories and guilt, Oh please, I'm not one easily tilt. To your feet men "fall", You claim model, I claim thrall, Your gaudy face paint, All masked in rouge, Your words sweet, Seemingly innocent too, Yet you tried with me, And I called you out, You are nothing to me, But simply, A dreadful banshee…

Eastern bound we tread in youth, To chase the break of day, But in the moors so fogged in mourn, The white horse blocks our way. Approached the equines eyes I did, In sleep they seemed to never sleep. The pale eyed beauty posed with pride, And us did to, in dream we were to ride. But in a desperate turn of fate, The sleepless eyes where now to sleep, The bog moors then began to haze, Turning the white one black. And thus, the end of my dear friend, But yet none did believe me, For in my eyes, Saw deathly skies, That equine haunted be. Through pouring rain, I seek that beast, To make the innocent see, I take the branch t