Cold is the Grave
The Accursed
Cold is the grave, in the darkness, as my
soul dies a slave, from the wound itself.
My heart is betrayed, by my hand my life is taken
this suicide has saved, me from all my hurt and pain.
I want to take my life,
from this world and change what I have done,
I want to take my life,
when my wrists and the razors collide.
Cold is the grave....Cold is my grave.
Until the end my name is sketched in stone,
I will bend in to this great unknown,
my feelings send, though I reap what I have sewn
my thoughts defend, the devils I have shown
I see the sun revel down from the sky
darkness won, blackened shadows swell up inside
it has begun, as the universe starts to collide
this day is done, as my feeble body dies.
Cold is the grave...Cold is my grave,
Lie in my grave.....Die in my grave.
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