Staring from the blue cold stiffness
The visitors are here
They draw near like the flashing
Of a pallid memory
That cannot be disposed of
The blood that has painted your hands
The visitors are here
They draw near like the flashing
Of a pallid memory
That cannot be disposed of
The blood that has painted your hands
Guilt, the Erynies
They move closer
And surround
Where are They now?
Where are the visitors now?
The blue and white of death
The blood, now black
Ever - flowing from slit throats
The never - blinking
Frozen eyes
They appear
circle's closing in
to remind,
force the nature
of the Ugly
to float again in the surface
The Essence of Guilt
Comes to life
My victims are aware
I cannot hide
Did you see Them?
What have you seen?
Please understand this,
There is no true option
As I draw the razor
The Visitors are here!
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