They hide in corners
loving to cause strife
while the mist is swirling
they suck the world of it's life.

The more of us dwindle,
The more it enjoys,
So grap sticks, and cross them one way,
Believe in all the joy.

Its eyes are red,
Its mouth will bite,
It grows powerful when it knows of your fright.
You hide with trepidation,
but it clandestinely inflicts.

The mist will asume it's evil,
The deep becomes endless,
The hate will gather,
And the sorrow will live.

The fire will light,
the weapon will scare,
but upon this battle field,
there is only one heir.

Blood is popular,
Wreckage is great,
So run and hide before it's to late...
Their eyes will not blink,
The never utter a sound,
Helpless, and ghostly,
degrading on the ground.

We pray at the ash grove,
Forever they lie,
We never had a chance to say goodbye.

He served his life well,
for our sake,
so he lives a better day in the sky, for a nicer wake, and a chance to say goodbye.