Tonight, I sit down in my grave
Laying still, embodying a knave
For calamity above is enraged
With her mighty arms stretched down toward my cave
I hear the screams of a thousand souls
Gnashing their teeth like a band of knolls
The crunch of bone echos in my hole
And fills my head, as I lose control
I writh in my grave, with white foam from my lips
The chaos is crushing, my body begins to slip
My limbs, they are not free,
But are slaves to this banshee
And as the wails of mankind
Begin to take reason and unwind
She uses me to find
A way to rid me from their mind.
-In hand I draw a knife-
And look out upon my life
I curse the ground they walk
And the god that tells them to talk
The world crashes in,
And pierces every crevice of my skin.
It is here, at my hand, I die
And indulge in wanted suicide
For to be dead is freeing
When our world lives unseeing
Of the people behind the masks
That they Knowingly impact

So tonight, I sit down in my grave
With no time left, for someone to save