Breeding Fear
G. Mackintosh / N. Holmes
Staring down into the depths
Subconciuos has taken my life
Breathing this foul and dank air
Eyes cannot penetrate the light
No room to panic or move
I pray my death will come soon.
My sorrows breeding on my fear.
The tombs of 1000 lay near,
Soon to diminish am I?
Lying there, minutes from my death
The nausea breeds on my fear
Calling to the victimes of fate
The dead cannot answer my calls.
My body falls to the depths
And darkness has engraved my mind...
No vision or solution
Gagged for air, deeper below I sink...