ATM
In your head
such is the dread
to have a loved one killed dead
For they shall all perish
all those we lovingly cherish
in one way or another they shall perish
Fall cold as stone
from something known or unknown
such a thought chills you to the cold bone
When the silent phone rings
bearing bad news it shall sing
saying come down and id please bring
To view that which might be lost
such a high a very dear cost
of life to short to have been lost
But ahead we still forge
even when the devil himself seems to hold the sword
despite the phone ringing a melody from the lord
and the voice which shall say we have them At The Morgue.
Faith2004
