Life was naught
Death was sought
In the land of eternal sleep
Where the devil herds his hellish sheep
Quite dead i lurk
Sinking in the rustic murk
Upon a dream of trust
I find i only must
Give in to my evil lust
Battered, Bruised and, Broken
My hate is the only token
To pass the bridge of the unspoken
I lay down to die
For in the winter I'll try
To live in my past of nigh

-Sate Redd