THE DEAD ARE COMING
The dark woods keeps them hidden.
I know that I’m forbidden
From walking this way.
I must get away.
I hear them moving through the trees.
Let me get away from them please.
The footsteps are getting louder.
The moon is now high and rounder.
The end for me and the town is near.
A crystal ball I don’t need to peer.
My head bowed and on a bended knee.
And this will still not end well for me.
THE DEAD GAME
THE DEAD GAME
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