Vanden Plas
Devils’ Poetry
There's a time called the twelfth night
When the unseen follow my way home
On these nights just this once
You can find their between world
The churchyard of all the haunting souls
Listen to what I say
Hear the voices on winter days
Resonations of their bitter world
Inside "The Land of the Shadows"
I'll find "The Shape of Unseen"
Within "The Dreams of a Ghostseer"
These evil poems calling me
This is calling me
Searching trails to the ghost world
No we are not alone
All these lanterns
Are projectors of the city lights
They make my shadow
Dance a waltz with the snowflakes
Or are these portraits of inhuman souls
Zombies ignite my fears
But why for so many years
They've got better things to do
Than scare me
Inside "The Land of the Shadows"
I'll find "The Shape of Unseen"
Within "The Dreams of a Ghostseer"
These evil poems calling me
Some metaphysical writings
From an anonymous author
Who wrote: "The Inhabitants of My Diary"
Evil flowers of a necromancy
Are devils' poetry
And this is calling me
Sail on boatsman sail on by
Sweet litany
Is calling me
Open the tides dark friend
To let them in
This is my last chance
They accuse me of a murder
Invade my mind
Misplace my memories
Say that I'm a failure . .
And then they're sailing away
But I still see them unclearly
They're sailing away again
I have to follow them tonight
Into "The Land of the Shadows"
To find "The Shape of Unseen"
Within "The Dreams of a Ghostseer"
Their evil poems calling me
And this is calling me . .
Some metaphysical writings
From an anonymous author
Who wrote: "The Inhabitants of My Diary"
These evil flowers of necromancy
Are devils' poetry
And this is calling me