Jaktet av spokelser

Crimson stain from blood spilt Words of conjuring spoken into mirror Fresh smoke writhes like serpents Distant sounds rushing closer And the question lingers here no longer By whatever name they know you’ve called them here On a whim you’ve summoned your living damnation Waking or sleeping, they violate you over and over Scream any words you wish, nothing ends your torment Even in death they are waiting on the other side Opening doors to places you don’t know is never wise And now they’ve been invited inside Your body so injured, your mind is in tatters A reward for your weakness, a failure to heed