Memories of red with spoken word video

Haunting familiar paths I walk
ghosts of old, shadows stalk
spectres fade, hope betrayed
moments of light, turn to shade

A crow calls out my name, calls me to shame
echoed words engulf, like a blanket of flame
through the fog, I glance and see, a wave of zombies taunting me
a sea of ghouls, arms outstretched hauntingly, I try to flee

The walls bleed, crimson tears seep as the walls weep
menacing voices speak, dripping their poison as they creep
the windows rattle, a tree branch silhouetted in the moonlit rain
points me out, as if damning me to an eternity of pain 

Laughter, a sinister sound in this empty room
is it in my head or is someone rising from their tomb
the sweat pours cold, shivers down my spine
am I going out of my mind, the icy cold fingers on my neck are not mine

A skeleton in the room, wind howling whistling through the bones
as I lay on this bed of nails, surrounded by poking prodding clones
There was a voice in the visions, in the darkness I saw
told me that we are all so much more, that this world is ours use it for good not war

Death spoke to me in a soft voice, in a tuneful song
told me that I still belong, that I had a story to turn the pages on
and then he was gone, and I was there in a hospital bed
all the fear and dread bled away into memories of red

Thanks for reading,

Peace & Love.

Kyle.