In the night time wonderland of the malevolent moon that prospers br The bloody stench of death stains the blackening petals of the rose br The rose that honours the decaying of the fallen and the gutless br Throw me the wreath that I shall lay at the feet of the mighty oak br And may we continue our battle of the skulls that fall from hell br And together we shall dwell in this old world where the fearless are feared br And the rain falls crimson on the guiltless pallid robes we adorn br A world that we are born into as the guilty victims of pleasures to beastiality br I stand and stare at the mischievous sprite in the face all the while br Internal bleeding seeping through the broken heart bleating at my swollen flesh br Spiritual minds condones the sadistic natures as we stand br We stand and we wait until we witness the life that grows from the weeping blood br Another skull falls as our backs are turned to the brutality called time br Hand in hand I walk with the standing breathing torso of sin br Passing the rotten appendages, I lower my head and let my face shroud br It hides beneath the strangly drapes as I walk away from the Oakland cenotaph br And I will turn back only to live it all again br br br © Pamela James-Blackwood 2007br br Pamela James Blackwoodbr br