The Haunted

Stale drops of inferior taste.
Handed down just to lay to waste.
Foul scent of a dream gone bad.
Die the death that he never had.
I've seen the flaming sights
I've walked that dreaded mile.
Religious fragmentation I gasp another line.
So be it-This place turns to dust.
So be it-Our blood turns to rust...
I see the world as gone'
Bring the pain!
I see the world as gone.
Epidemic spreads across the land.