Dead Boys Poem
As night creeps slowly over the highest tree tops
Concealing the moon in its presents
The land of the dead awakes on this dark and mysterious hour
Whoever enters at this dark hour ever returns alive...
but there is only one who has entered and came back alive...
one so dark himself it is taboo to speak his name for you will be tortured
for he carries the dead on his shoulders
and can reap the soul the soul of a living
with just one glace into his dark, evil eyes