I lie asleep, dreaming peacefully;
Cloudy shift… something new to see…
My happy scene shows new angles,
But no, not by the hands of angels.
The pretty field of flowers rearranges;
To a bloody red, the color changes.
Looking down watching myself now;
The red-stained axe thunders down…
Reality strikes, no longer a dream;
I erupt inside, but before I scream…
A tall cloaked figure appears in front of me;
His wispy hand reaches out deliberately.
He takes my hand, flesh and blood,
Into his, so cold and numb,
And plucks my soul from within my mind.
I watch as I leave my body, my hopes, my dreams behind…
With that he locks my soul up with a key,
And then takes the inner being of me…
From this dream, never will I wake,
‘Fore I have felt the Devil’s Hand Shake…