I awake in a desolate room
With my limbs tied to a chair
I try to see but the black takes hold
Entombed in shadows
Out of nowhere they appear, out the door across the room
Holding candles, that light the shadows
Faces blocked by hoods, covering the thing I'd like to see
Painting pictures in my mind, will I live, or will I die?
Candles places in a sigil
Meant to signify the devil
Candles light the faces
Underneath the cloaks
That skinless, skeletal face
That I gaze upon, frightens me
Realization hits, I am dead
Watching them pull out, their shining scythes
I weep and chuckle, at the sight
The sight of the cult, that took my life
Cult of Reapers