Her nostril bled a blood bright red
Though no one was there to hit her head
The magic loomed luring ladies into traps trivial that happen so fast
It drew her close with a cutting corrosive blast
Essence emanating, evaporating, caressing her linen
Luscious power lulled her leaving senselessness
Pacifying pulling, a force so perfectly relentless
She fell to madness making murmurs in her mind now muddled
As she rot away rare conditions rendering her useless
She lay slowly dying singing songs spiritual sensual and subtle

Marching across the lands looking for foes to impale
A show of brutality killing those who oppose my flail
I am Arthur, King of The Britons
And I seek the grail

Ice drifted through the water
Though no current was detected
No bird winnowed the air
All seemed to be still
But yet only the snow fell
In the water still were the merrows
Buildings we passed had underlit windows
Death’s icy grasp was on this land deep down to the marrows
Though he was tranquil the land was harrowed
He saw his breath
Over the Lake
And in the reflection of the water
He saw the face of death

Falling asleep enter the dream and these that are, are not
You wander around in a cascade of thought
Passing a maelstrom of serenity and a physical mind
Finding out that the thing you want is awfully hard to find
But you keep trekking through the wilds until you find out where to go
It's dark down there and you've been lost since ages ago
You thought you heard a noise and something, someone strikes a match
Their face is illuminated and finally you've found your match
But then the scene changed and you're crying for what you found
But you are in a desert with sand for miles and miles around
You walk again hoping more for that thing to come back
And eventually you cry out and wake up, gunfire, you are back to Iraq

A darkest hour, a darkest time
For him and for many, the day was sublime
For his knife was ready, curved to a point
The cultist was screaming, brother anoint
The oil was dripping, mixed with his gore
His form was sprawled, all over the floor
The circle was drawn, the time is now
Our god will be waiting, they’ll hear us somehow
We slice his throat, and we say the watchwords
We chant for an hour, then **** all the birds
The light is telling, our god has awoken
He is coming down, to the words we have spoken
And when he arrives, death to the foundation
If his presence is felt, enter damnation

The waiting girl had leather boots studded with her payment of lavish jewels
Blood red in the dead of the night from all those daring dead fools
She entered the bar amongst the dancing and shouted at all the ghouls
Though what she said did not shield her from the hellish banshee
She saw her target amongst the prostitutes dripping with foreign ecstasy
She held her .44 and let him lie in death's dark sea