Your demise shall start as the skies turn red
And ignite the spark in the living dead
The wolves shall bay, and the sun will burn
At evil's rise, the son will turn
As the willows shake, and the pines blow wild
The man shall take a helpless child
The red will fade, and turn to black
As the child walks behind his back
So the story goes, there is a man inflamed
Who shall have his son to make his claim
And try you will to evade his eyes
But the story ends with your demise
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
Your demise shall start as the skies turn red
And ignite the spark in the living dead
The wolves shall bay, and the sun will burn
At evil's rise, the son will turn
As the willows shake, and the pines blow wild
The man shall take a helpless child
The red will fade, and turn to black
As the child walks behind his back
So the story goes, there is a man inflamed
Who shall have his son to make his claim
And try you will to evade his eyes
But the story ends with your demise