They come to me like shades upon the grave;
Such peace they carried in their arms of mirth,
But tarnished by deceit and cruel intent
Of slowly shattering my fragile earth.
A thief of virtue staring back at me,
O how I loathe those ever draining eyes
With placid gaze that rapes the heart of light
And buries hope beneath the weight of lies.
A horrid beast, that coward of a thief
That seeks to claim the vibrance I possess.
Then bury me into a pit called home,
And there, with hands of malice you caress.
So hand to me the knife you call a friend,
I’ll cut away this skin, this flesh I wear
And leave behind a monument of bones
For you to linger o’er without a care.