Precious little sweet things,
Sitting in your ancient home.
Calling for your long lost days,
Crying for your broken souls.

Pale ghostly sweet things,
Dwelling in this catacomb.
Stretching out your misty hands,
Grasping for the living.

Shattered tortured sweet things,
Your bodies now long decayed.
Your bones fill the rotten house,
Your frail souls cling to.

Poor forgotten sweet things,
I come to you this cursed night.
Seeking penance for the past,
You found me cold, afraid.

Hungry seeking sweet things,
Drifting like a misty wisp.
You come from behind the walls,
You rise up through the floor.

Horrid fearful sweet things,
Hollow faces of the dead.
Black and empty eyes on me,
I cannot help but scream.

Plunging shrieking sweet things,
Purge the living from your home.
I have no place amongst you.
A domain for the dead.

Ripping tearing sweet things,
Cleave my body from my soul.
Send me to my final rest,
And make me one of you.

Lonely fallen sweet things,
I linger among you now.
Hungry for a purer soul,
Than that I call my own.