Thursday 18 October 2007 photo 1/1
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Sythe's cold edge thrust Spreading blood on their face Bells toll the coming of their final days Red flowers growing To mark all our tears The pain and the anguish We're planting the seeds Reaching forward, through the dark Dead, marching forward, much colder than the cud Reaching forward, through the dark Spreading the soilbleed, no return when you're marked Contorted spirit Distorted creed You know that your time has come When the soil bleeds
Annons
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Anonymous
Fri 19 Oct 2007 14:07
lolpwndroflcopter
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