Death or Bust

A sweet symphony of screams,

Invades my thoughts,

Haunts my dreams.

My mind's my moral enemy,

Furthering my


It's only slightly worse, I think,

Than that which drives me

To the brink.

My madness lead me to the edge,

Where old graves

Are drug and dredged,

For ash and bones, turned to dust,

For in this life,

It's death or bust.