Silence
Broken
Shots are fired
The ghost brigade has attacked
They rise from the trees
Like shadows from the ground
They are coming
Coming for me
Fingers
Stretching
Clawing
Desperately running
But I'm in their grasp
Dressed in black,
Fire spewing forth from
Their skulls of desperation
Seeking for their prize
My soul
Myself
To return to hell
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