Silence In the House of Death

THIS PERSON WHO IS HE IN MY HOUSE WHY DON'T ARISE IN MY JARGON-ED NAME MY SOUL IN DESPAIR I HAVE AN INHUMAN INVENTATION TO THIS AMALGAMATING AUDIENCE OF ARSON SKELETON 'S ARE IN ADMISSION, THE GHOST IN REPETITION WITH GHOULS IN DISPOSITION MY BONES' CRIES ARE FEARLESS IN UNANSWERED FILLING THE ROOM WITHOUT ENOUGH ACCOMIDATIONS A DEEP NARROW PATH APPERS OUT OF PARTICIPATION WHILE THE REAPER BEGANS THE TRASLATION I FEEL THE INVOICE OF SORROW WITH DEATH'S INCOMPETTENT BARROW HE STEALS THE SHAMEFUL TOMOARROW I STAND IN LUXURY OF ;OUD-SPEACKING MAN OF POWER CLOCKS TURN MANIPULATING EVERY HOUR I AM LIKE A NEWBORN IN A MIDNIGHT SHOWER NEVER FEELING THE SAME AS I WALK TO SIT DOWN BY THE FIRE, I PLACE MYSELF AS I 'M STOOPED OVER IN THE MIDDLE, I AM STRUCK BY A FIDDLE