Darkened rooms filled with a voided soul,
The smell is pungent and reeks of alcohol.
Paranoia mounts as life starts to leave,
A spirit takes thy hand and with it you bleed.
Nevermore will you walk in this corpse that's dead,
But you'll only come back knowing half as much instead.
Sharpen the blade for your foes and not for your woes,
Conflict in this life upon the next shall be imposed.