She died tonight, but it's no myth.
Her screams and blood have scarred her town,
Dark red assisted with a shrill sound.
The knife, the scars, the death is all to simple.
We've lost her smile, her laugh, her little dimples.
The fear, the pain, the agony:
The anticipation, her wedding, happy matrimony.
A demon lover come to reclaim what was his,
A retribution from beyond the abyss.
And the husband, her groom, on this very day,
Stays in town, but alone grows gray.
This is the tale of Abigail Smith,
who died tonight, but that's no myth.