11-07-201012:22 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-07-201012:22 PM by Mallyumpkin.)
The skulls I gather are rather white,
and seem to shine in the light,
of the moon and the stars,
I look at blood red Mars,
digging through this rotten dirt,
digging up every grave,
I've become the witch's slave,
stealing skulls every night,
not even trying to leave in fright,
and all because I would not rather,
end up just like the skulls I gathter.
and seem to shine in the light,
of the moon and the stars,
I look at blood red Mars,
digging through this rotten dirt,
digging up every grave,
I've become the witch's slave,
stealing skulls every night,
not even trying to leave in fright,
and all because I would not rather,
end up just like the skulls I gathter.