The sound of footsteps is fading little by little.
As a long dark shadow creeps up on my bed,
I clutch my pillow as fear streams up my mind
as there is no living soul in this building other than mine.
Darker are the corridors when I'm all alone
spooky are the noises when the night is old
harrowing are the stories that are told at night
Come take my hand bring me into the light.
Where are the forgotten, stuck between lines in old books
their tombstones wet and mossy with no flowers to colour them
Beyond grasp are the days of fortune and fame past,
so are the skills and secrets of them that are long lost.
Name one soul which is not haunted by their own problem
living under the veil of their own lies, unable to speak their heart.
Mine is such which is a hard thing to gulp,
Oh come and save me my dearest god,
Because only in you I have my trust.
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