A mighty power only the special chosen ever get to hold
A treasure trove of riches, I knew it was something strange
I’ve been blessed with a gift it cannot be bought or ever sold
Harnessing its awesome power I forever now will ever change
In the morgue room I hear all there cold escaping death whispers
When I am in there all alone, I hear creeks and sometimes a squeak
Seeing ghosts I can touch, they all trust me or I would never get a peek
I close my eyes before I sleep then see many faces and without their flesh
All my life I always been an avid dreamer and now I dream of living death
A reoccurring nightmare I often have is, I’m choking and losing all my breath
Every time we get a new guest in the funeral palor they always love talking to me
Reveling there secrets to me, lessons of knowledge along with all there gained wisdom
Helping me solve all the riddles, telling me constalations will slay at my instant command
From the mouths of the dead there tales they are told blessing me now with the power I behold.
(SirCARSr. 3-19-13)