Author Information
Aiming At me
The branches of these shadows are aiming at me
Griping into my flesh and not letting me breath
Slowly I start suffocating
My rich wine stops circulating
Slowly decreasing
Finding myself not reasoning
Venom sticking in
Sooner or latter no more me
For the cause the beast got unleashed
I find myself so deep
I rather just sleep
On my bed were my corpse may lay
With out no jesters nor worries
Through my cerebellum only having those memories
