I have vivid memories of the dead
As they scream from their graves.
They long to be among the living
For the darkness they cannot brave.
I remember being in my bed of purple velvet
Hearing those damn souls trying to break free.
Every night I claw at my prison in hopes
That eternal death I would someday see.

As I walk upon the graves of my loved ones,
I try to block the memories of the dead.
Your blood beckons to me and I must submit
For returning to me grave is what I dread.

� 2000-2008 by NightBard13