The Pit Has Been Dark
Don’t let your feet touch the ground,
while spirits of malevolence drift around,
the only thing you know for certain,
what lays behind the ghostly curtain.
(Chorus) The night has been long,
the wound has been deep,
the pit has been dark,
and the walls have been steep.
Dark circles under your eyes,
a vacant look that's no surprise,
crimson thorns that tightly bind,
unanswered questions in your mind.
Shifting seasons steals your breath,
while the reaper doles out death,
in the shadows of misty 'morrow,
angels weep with heartfelt sorrow.
Spirits wax and often wane,
the wailing wind feels no pain,
souls that’s stolen in the night,
now turn black no longer bright.
Blood that once flowed so free,
in hell denied its liberty,
dust prevails to mark the spot,
where bleached white bones begin to rot.
Lightening thrusts like blades of flame,
thunder grabs the heart to claim,
love unfettered strikes a pose,
thorns of guilt fall from the rose.
Candles flicker distort the white,
the breeze unbound whips to flight,
smoke that churns seems to jeer,
hides the torment in their tear.
To walk this life we must be brave,
dusty footprints become your grave,
a smile to keep never to borrow,
a faded memory greets tomorrow.
Tombstones topple turning green,
the faded epitaph no longer seen,
chilling shrouds shriek and moan,
an untamed spirit all alone.
© 2012 Mark