Here they are; the wicked
A panic floods the field.
Deliverance; unthinkable.


They play their part, performing oh so well...


With empty cores they carry on
"a twisted soul!"
"an apparition!"

Born of a beastly brand
they butcher purposely


"Just have the sense to run away"

Scream at the sky;

beg for a reason he would allow this.
Look to the sky and say;
we would be better off without this.


We've never felt alive
but none of us can die

just when we want to.

We're stuck in this disguise

this leather skin; with eyes
designed to haunt you.


Do we haunt you?

You're on the other side.