You summoned me from the depths of hell And then condemned me For the very nature that you asked for
Where’s the remorse?
She pushed her out the window Through the glass panes And as she stared down
Too Close for Comfort
The white walls are closing in 6 feet by 6 feet Creep closer and closer
Grim
It's a grim day When the reaper comes Regardless of weather
Dig Deep
Dig a mass grave There will be A massacre tonight
From the Gates
Demons come crawling From the gates of Hell In hoards
Death Follows
Plants die everywhere she walks To match her depressive state Like the manifestation Of her own personal rain cloud
Not Yet
My fingers bleed From the agony Of trying to tear
Dispirit
The thrills of living Don't touch me
Foresee
I keep trying to plan Out my life But I can't predict The next moment Let alone a lifetime -Kel Dayheart
Fragment of a Figment 