Within
14 May, 2002
Author: Sax
We're drawn to the home of 1,000 spirits,
there aint no real heros here.
She holds me tight,
a psychic fright.
Cones of power within the street,
firey circles raise the energy.
The Demon within me is once again set free,
I can feel the bliss of looking at death in the face
Do we have something to hide?
Midnight walks among the dead,
a music box tune surrounds us all,
evil spirits lung at us,
intent on the unkown.
Is it here that I belong?
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