Dead leaves
Dead deeds
Echo in the moonlight
Frostbite
Counting the days
Til Christmas
Hope remains
Despite the stains
Past regrets
Nothing lets me forget
A second of peace
Lies lovely in my memory,
Glances at me in the mirror.
Have mercy
On my tortured mind,
The sound behind
Pierces my soul
I feel the grind
Of hell’s watchthings
Preying on what they find
At the bottom
Of the wishing well.
The smell of fear
Envelops my body.
Count the days…
Til Christmas.
