Calls of Death's Whispers

I see red...to see the dead
Read from all the books I've read
Plead the mournful rights of brains
Kneed the most endearing pains

Played by strings twanged hard and sharp
Make not the mellow tune of a harp
Rake in souls to feed the death
Consuming; thriving on the world's breath.

Torn on the shoulder and nails dug in deep
Pain to pain my sorrow can reap
Make merry my wounds, make merry my scars
Make solemn the vows to the porous stars.

Carry on the bright death rider
Make the road a little less lighter
Bury the living to wilt your hate
Yet, however...this is hate's strongest gait.

Slender fingers come to draw you close
More beautiful and deadly this poisonous rose
Calamity sears the eyes of Life
Calamity sends all out to kill man's wife.

Played by the strong and the meakest are the dead
This...from all the Bibles I've read.
Hear my whispers to your drums
Add this to our fates' strong hums.

Bring out the living and slaughter them all
This is the birth they long to so stall
Bury the guts and then hang them hear
Balance their heads on my obsidian spear.

Make merry the day, and make merry this wine
Evil is darkness of the purest design
Carry my load to make you bend
I'm not sorry...and my aid I'll not lend.