They sit so silently upon a perch
Watching, waiting for our demise
Cackling with insatiable mirth
Those phantoms on the rise

They wait for us to be broken
Crashing upon a jagged shore
Whispering words left unspoken
Collecting bones for evermore

They disdain the truly fleshy parts
They have no use for real
They pick and pluck for the heart
Believing it can heal

Except it's just another dead *****
Dripping blood and spilling lies
Reality is truly distorted
to the Phantoms on the Rise