And as the tarred, ebony wings spread,
the beast rested on the headstone.
It protects the eternal rest of the dead,
who in their wake never once atoned.
A Guardian of the Underworld;
A Keeper of the Night.
Into a mighty ball it curled,
and vanished out of sight.
It appeared again before a tomb,
and spread its ghastly wings once more.
How many souls lay trapped inside its womb?
Perhaps as many as the sands of the shore.
Before man, its time dates.
Back when there was no land, water, or sky.
This once-guardian of Hell's gates,
Remains invisible to the human eye.
Invisible to me, it is not.
But it exists for sure; It is not a tale of the mind.
I say to the living: Keep a sharp eye as your dead rot.
I say to again: Beware, for there are many of our kind.
There is no beginning, nor end,
For the cursed ones such as we.
We simply Are; You could not understand,
The horror of our immortality.
We hide amongst the shadows,
and in that last step you always take.
We were present at the death chambers, towers, gallows;
And took the Ones towards God, commenced to forsake.
We walk amongst you, but fear not.
Wait until you become a bag of bones; Then worry.
Don't forget we are here, watching what's in your heart.
And don't You dismiss Us as another bed-time story.
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