In the Dark
The Specter of Death
Awaits my final breath
Wings with wicked pinions
Like serpents shooting venoms
Leads me to his darkened caves
Among his callous wailing slaves
From this fateful journey of his
I found a swarming wilderness
Sacred ground for the Devil’s home
Bids me welcome for me to roam
For my debts I have too much to pay
I’ll never see the light of day
My life, my discretion, my regrets

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Robert L. Martin
plus de 5 ans

I don't always feel like that, especially not today.

plus de 5 ans


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