See shadows in the dark with bloodshot eyes.
Hear wails in the air as far as the ebony skies.
Sometimes the pain becomes more than they can take.
Fragile are their hearts, so prone to break.
The final hour creeps closer, death is drawing near.
The creatures of the night come to feast on their fear.
Driven by their empty hearts, driven by the blade,
Leaving cuts, that would have scarred, but it was doing only as it was bade.
Panicked thoughts race through their minds, should I stay or should I go?
It’s complexity turned tragedy, ‘cause only the lonely know.
They say their farewells, and reach their arms in the air,
One last wail, cursing Fate, yet Hell’s likely to be more fair.
Their vision diffuses as the blood runs dry,
Then they’re still in the dead of night as the angels cry.