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After you are dead
When night winds whisper of ancient lore,
In ancient tongues spoken no more;
When darkling shadows caress the moon
While distant sirens hum a haunting tune;
When eerie silence descends like a shroud,
And even a breath seems violently loud;
When terror makes your heart beat fast,
And you wonder how long the darkness will last;
When you pace the floor, unable to sleep,
Having dreamed of drowning in the watery deep;
When in the distance you hear shrieks and cries,
And you feel the pressure of unseen eyes;
When minutes drag like hours and hours like days,
While evening fog shimmers with an unholy haze;
When you hear the cackle of a mocking laugh,
And the tapping on your door of a wooden staff;
Then know your time has come, and payment is due,
Too late now your bargain with Hell to rue.
Your immortal soul you traded for treasure on Earth;
Far better if you had never been given birth.
You lived the good life, had yourself a blast;
Now through endless ages your torment will last.
Scream and cry, battle or for mercy plead;
It matters little as your soul will bleed.
However long you live, an accounting there must be;
No matter where you run or how fast you flee.
So consider before you sign that contract in dripping red;
Where will you go AFTER you are dead?
In ancient tongues spoken no more;
When darkling shadows caress the moon
While distant sirens hum a haunting tune;
When eerie silence descends like a shroud,
And even a breath seems violently loud;
When terror makes your heart beat fast,
And you wonder how long the darkness will last;
When you pace the floor, unable to sleep,
Having dreamed of drowning in the watery deep;
When in the distance you hear shrieks and cries,
And you feel the pressure of unseen eyes;
When minutes drag like hours and hours like days,
While evening fog shimmers with an unholy haze;
When you hear the cackle of a mocking laugh,
And the tapping on your door of a wooden staff;
Then know your time has come, and payment is due,
Too late now your bargain with Hell to rue.
Your immortal soul you traded for treasure on Earth;
Far better if you had never been given birth.
You lived the good life, had yourself a blast;
Now through endless ages your torment will last.
Scream and cry, battle or for mercy plead;
It matters little as your soul will bleed.
However long you live, an accounting there must be;
No matter where you run or how fast you flee.
So consider before you sign that contract in dripping red;
Where will you go AFTER you are dead?
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After you are dead
After you are dead