Win

Tragedy ensues on an evil note
the chorus of wicked minions assault
I know this time it is my fault
Spells cast upon the words I wrote

The bell never tolls it's doom down here
instead its only misery and blood
Like entrails strewn around in mud
My heart beats fast in clenching fear

The brimstone winds tear at my skin
the smell of pain and ripe decay
the man beating his head would say
"They will not win! They cannot win!!"

I wake among my twisted sheets
covered in the smell of death
the genesis of the day in the west
what of last eve's mythic feats?

The day obscured by the solemn din
I see that man and his bloody head
An eerie voice in side me said,
"Oh yes they win! They always win!!"