I can feel a warning,
it may come late in the day.
But I can feel a warning.
It's blacker than the clouds,
that roam the skys.
It's darker than the ink,
that stains your hands.
It's redder than his eyes,
that colour that curdles blood
like those screams that haunt me.
The sound of bleeding innocence,
The sound of pain filled corpses,
The sound that shatters…
Souls and windows
Those screams that haunt me.