one turned the corner and saw a true ghost one struck with fear forever comatose one left in wanting of potions release
walk the trodden trail with never turning back souls that turned to salt litter these vagrant tracks cut me deep within and tread the razors path burn these lips to blackened tips and live this fatal lapse
madness has stricken the wretched and wicked who long for the taste of blood the cold empty-hearted and dearly-departed have nothing to offer this world def to the noise but i hear youre voice calling me back home