Blighted To Pine
Balmora
3:23Dragged from the light with clawing nails, Cast far from the graces of god. Lead down the River of blood, Through fields of gold. Faces amongst the trees, Deformed and twisted, Laughing and jeering, Forked tongues that speak into the wind. A row of a thousand dead, Burned at the stake, Used as lanterns to light my path, Lead Down a river of blood Through fields of gold Your siren ghost chant leads me astray, Forever lost amongst the mist Lost amongst the mist You are the embodiment of a shipwreck. I carved your name into my chest, In front of your gravestone, Just as you had done with mine One week before your burial. I watched you die in December all alone I closed the cemetery gates as lleft, But left it unlocked, So that others may water your grave with blood, And flowers may grow from where you rest, With roots that reach deep into your chest I watch you die every December All alone