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Next.
Deep in the graveyard,
Under the trees,
There she lies,
And waits for me.
Someday she waits,
And asks if I will come,
Asking and asking,
When will my life be done?
The wind blows,
The trees hum,
Has she stopped asking,
If I will come?
Asking and asking,
I grow sick of it.
When will she stop,
Will she stop if she's lit?
I throw flames on her grave
Cursing and crying,
I laugh at the flames,
Unknowingly dying.
Her ghost took horrific revenge upon me,
And it is now done,
Because now I am dead,
And you are the next one.
