The dream turns into nightmare,
The hellish, piercing cold stare
That freezes the surrounding air
Into shards tearing into flesh.
Blood flows down into a river,
Working its way into a shiver,
And makes the weak quiver.
The wretched wretch it out.
The organs of death pulsate,
An oozing and seeping state
Of being past the final date
Assigned to an expiration.
Death is the end of us all,
Squawks the bird its call
As it watches the living fall
Into the abyss of damnation.