Buried Near The Living Dead - Summer's End

I will watch your throne shatter and fall

Leaving treads of blood imprinted around my throat

Your hands will never be washed away

And my fears never reduce in exhaustion

Since the cold blood brought back the plague of death

The ignorance of you and others followed

Will be finalized as i watch them dig for you

When simple lapse is turned tragedy

Cloned forgiveness is not certain

I find myself searching for another way

As my thoughts fall further in denial