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Description
The rustle of the leaves as he runs past
eyes searching for his escape
he hears the voices haunting him
and by the deathly force is draped

They give chase
blood hangs thick in the air
hearing cries which do only to excite
seeing through into despair

Two of them walking down the lane
between Tartarus and Hades they stand
which is better now they wonder
sitting down there, beneath the ground

Shining light then sweep on through
taking one and leaving death
one remains there all alone
the Killer, now rubbed of his twisted mirth

The runner, now no longer running
sitting quiet in his home
the Killer, now no longer hurting
is sleeping in the earth alone