Choking on my own tounge, my eyes have rolled back, im violently shaking in the misconception of your lies, or truths, i dont know any more, it doesnt make since any more, im not quite sure now, i dont care enough for you not to die, not to burn, in an epaleptic fit of confusion, blood spills out of my eyes, dripping to the floor, draining my worries into sweet darkness, drowning my sins in the silence, youve got to love that sound, the sound of that one last final breath, exiting slowly, leaving the lungs oh so cold and motionless, yet somehow, the heart beats once more, and the lungs fill to capacity, preparing to pick ones self from the coffin, to reach with a decaying hand unto the surface, to kill again, as i rise under the crackleing of my bones, feeling the stiffness of my suit and tie as i take a deep breath, and give an angry stare to the ones who are left, im coming for you, as now i am unstobbable, for you cannot kill that which is dead, you all must suffer for your sins, as i am the first and the greatest, of many many more to come, as i am the king, of the roaming hellions, the lord, of the dead
