God to the Ill Fated

And over my shoulder you see, The glistening sway of a scythe For time the silver will dim, and the leap we are Taking heads held high, upright And I who would come when you want, Walk through fire any nook or clime A chill breeze swirls the leaves a

New dawn to fuel the curse the winds of plague bring rapture to the ill The is the day you fall Wrath of the cunning ones indifferent your excuses and intent The forbrearance is all Futile you come undone Try to play God - I lust for blood Treading o

It's in dead of night she pries In blood soaked dreams you die She wants to give you disease as a gift, a fever caress Bite you and bruise your skin black, hear the noises stress Nails scratching deep in your bones, a succubus bane Nothing you can do