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Monday, August 22, 2011

The Bug Got Him

Walking down the crooked hallway
This is real life, no play
There has been a mass killing
I’ve got a terrible feeling
Like a monster is watching me
My soul feels trapped, not free
Lights turn off out of nowhere 
This was a frightening scare
I hear a stampead
Try to see, but I don’t succeed 
A black figure approaches 
Covered in cockroaches 
It lights a candle
What I see, I can’t handle
A rotting corpse in bug form
Old ragged clothes that are torn
Black widows for eyes
All covered in cockroaches and flies
Speaking in tongues, commanded by Cain
It was the killer who created so much pain
I started to run
Made it outside where there was no sun
It wouldn’t come out
All it could do now, was shout
I grabbed the cops and went back
Everything and everyone was gone, except a sack
A letter was inside
“This is where the bodies hide
Only the one who escaped in the sun
Can enter, death to anyone else who come”
I went to the pin-pointed location
I got this weird sensation
I feel his thrill for the kill
So I start to do his will and make blood spill

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