Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

There's no time to waste as she sees

Maggot filled flesh

Dangling from the trees

She hits her knees, prays to her god

She hits her knees, praise to the damned

A man, with flesh upon his face

Breathes a requiem of her fate

And with his chainsaw

He'll write

Her obituary

Inserted through delicate skin

The blade starts to pulse within

She should have stayed away

Instead she found her grave

She lays, now under the ground

Where worms, begin to feed

Silence, the only sound

It is, deafening

Now stare deep into the face of hell

As she rises from the grave

She'll seek the face of her killer

Declaring his fate

And I swear

There will be blood

To paint these walls

With the bile

Of her killer