February 24, 2011
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Darkness encases those it sees fit
Unabashedly stealing their souls until they quit
When the reaper hails from smoke and ash
The corpe's stand up and salute with a bash
The living dead praises his essence
Until they reap benefits from his presence

Sweat and blood cover the ground
The little monsters whining and scampering around
Like little devils the run until its no fun
All the while making jokes with intending puns
Feasting on flesh and bone with vigor
Hoping the rotten body doesn't rigor

The lost souls vanish without a trace
Hoping to end up in an unconventional place
Wondering aimlessly with no regretting fear
They hope their glorious salvation will near
Like snakes in grass they wither away
Lurking beneath a surface the seems to sway

Whispers cascade around the desolate place
Making stories about people without a noticeable face
Dreamless images create dark desires that unchain
While people look on with despair and disdain
Standing among the petrified trees and darkened leaves
Are the people entwined with the webs we weave

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