Everytime I close my eyes.
I see their remains.
Dead bodies.
parts of people.
hung up on chains.
Rotting and staring at me.
with their cold, dead eyes.
Why am I always the one.
Who's holding the butchers knife.
Why.
Why won't it go away.
why won't the dead leave me be.
I just want to have a night.
where I myself.
can rest in peace.
I have never commited these acts
so why is it that I see.
The victems.
of such unspeakable atrocities.
I close my eyes and I see these. corpses staring back at me.