White Coffin
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In a white empty coffin
Angels lay in wait
For today the preacher is late
In a white empty coffin
Silent nights filled with piercing screams
You may call them nightmares
The grim reaper calls them dreams
In a white empty coffin
Snow storms hail from above
A blanket of death over
Those who breathe not at all
White empty coffins
Collecting tears as they fall
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2017
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