A personal experience of mine, written out in the most purest form I can manage.
|Ghoulish hands twist and turn,
gripping for those who yet to learn.
They scream, they howl, they bite and moan
they make you shake straight to the bone.
With eyes so wide like saucers they prowl,
with the midnight shaping their awful loud growl,
the dripping of spit, skin and blood,
they stand over us covered in mud.
She tells me not to weep nor cry,
with me no choice but to lie.
My skin it boils, it makes me shriek
her voice is so shallow and awfully meek
The doctors they come in and shout,
''Boy what the fuck are you shouting about?,,
They cannot see her, I know and hate it.
I yell and loose all my sense of wit.
For there is no one who survives,
in the home of lost lives,
we just keep on breathing
and hope we stop bleeding.
"Please end me already, It's my time to go.. ,,
Yet she frowns and says, "We never leave, you know. ,,