Here they are; the wicked.
A panic floods the field.
Deliverance; unthinkable.

The play their part, performing oh so well...

With empty cores they carry on
"a twisted soul"
"an apparition"
Born of a beastly brand
They butcher purposely.

"Just have the sense to run away"

Scream to the sky;
Beg for a reason he would allow this.
Look to the sky and say;
We would be better off without this.

We've never felt alive
But non of us will lie
Just when we want to.

We're stuck in this disguise
This leather skin; with eyes
Designed to haunt you.

Do we haunt you?

You're on the other side.