I stand by the edge of my fate.
I stand on the leaves of the Winter death.
Dead Mans Graveyard is the place I have to rake.
The pale mans face is engraved on the tombs.
Sorrow adds to the hurtful events surrounding the stones.
Pain and agony screams from the dead mens bones.
The sun is setting into the darkness.
Black moon is rising out of the light.
Stranded by the broken door.
I have no key.
I am nothing.
I am owned by the hungry owl.
I have lost my soul.
Deep is my shallow.
Inside my grave.
I am screaming.
Dead mens bones are brittle and hollow.