He's On My Doorstep. I Feel The Cold.

I have a honest mouth and I speak with poetry,

Suffocated by the dreams of my enternal misery,

As death softly whispers me a darkened lullaby,

The shattered words form my malicious dreams,

I am in the darkness as my violent heart screams.

The comforting shadows will follow me in death,

They will be watching when I take my final breath,

Even the dead are followed by haunting nightmares.

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