It paints a perfect picture,
It tells a flawless lie,
It sings a song of beauty,
A haunting lullaby.
It's song is one of sorrow,
A portrait of it's life,
And those who hear are captured,
Haunted by it's strife.

It's song will leave you crying,
It'll wipe away your tears,
But compassion is a falsehood,
Created over years.

It's song will penetrate you,
A knife straight through your heart,
The tune will plague your footsteps,
A seductive work of art.

It's lullaby will soothe you,
It's song will give you wings,
It's mournful voice will trap you,
Every time it sings.

It's song is one of anguish,
An image of your fate,
But you won't know it's purpose,
Until it's far too late.

It's acid tears will burn you,
It's knives will slash your skin,
It's crimson blood will stain you,
Forgive you of your sin.

It's melody will slay you,
It's hymn will let you fly,
It's song is flawless sorrow,
Death's haunting lullaby