Fester

Twisting tendrils

Climbing incredibly high

Cold, black ichor

Bleeds from a hole in the sky

Old, festering wound

Twisting the blade again

Cry out in the dark

As you wake from your dreams again

Cold, cruel laughter

Creeps up on you from behind

Ever after

Dwells in the hole in your mind

Old, festering wound

Twisting the blade again

Call out to your gods

As you suffer and bleed again

These wraiths haunt me;

Crawl back nightly

I'll suffer these ghosts,

Suffer alone

And will not mourn when they're gone

Dragged down in

This waking tomb

Sweet slumber!

Re-take me soon

Same cold tendrils reaching to grasp you once more

Blighted night-thoughts, choked down insomnia's maw

Old, festering wound

Twisting the blade again

Cry out evermore;

Let the torment repeat again

These wraiths haunt me

Crawl back nightly

These wraiths haunt me