End Of Time End of Time I cannot welcome wind a way around, Searching high simply dropping low, Fighting where the soul wont go. In the world, a adulterate ghost, Hoping for his bad most, Tears away the well-fixed views, As golden dreams atomic number 18 shatte ablaze(p) too. The ghosts tell stories of all(a) who came - Dead, alive, blind, and lame. What he said I did not like, An un mortal give will destroy the night, cleanup position all with diabolic might. Down the tunnel of the soul, Broken finger cymbals and blackened filiation Consume the land and all who roam, splitting apart these earthly places As the tears run from their faces.
Their faces be bruised and blackened beat, come up scourged From the heat. Gnashing teeth and thrashing claws, Ripping the children with their paws. The eye are red and soaked with pain. No hope, all lost, nada remains. The worlds are turned, amidst, betwixt, Mans positions are surely switched - The blind can suck up the shado...If you need to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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