It's the year of the Plague

The darkness behind my eyelids
smells like formaldehyde and rotten roses
my dreams claw their way out of my glass-eye sockets

Its the year of the Plague
and I wrap myself in her dress
my heart is beating faster
with rhythms I've never known before

I collect the flowers from Hangman's Hill
with the noose made of soft whispers around my neck
And I smile at the warm sunshine
as I'm dragging their ghastly bodies
out onto the flower fields

Its the year of the Plague
and I wrap myself in her dress
my heart is beating faster
with rhythms I've never known before.

Isolation Cell


If they had known
the things I do
to you
when I'm alone

They would have locked me in
and kept me there
until my bones
turned to dust

For behind my glass-like smile
and stardust eyes
death is the only way out.

© Malady, August 2009.

No rest for the weak

Don't you wish your God was just like me
condemning souls to purgatory
over again in eternity

Black are their tongues
their souls are rotten
killing us slowly
but never forgotten

Mankind is hatred
with smiles full of bleach
heart-worm diseases
no rest for the weak

Slowly they're creeping
up under your skin
polluting your veins
producing your sins

Black are their tongues
their souls are rotten
killing us slowly
but never forgotten


© Malady, June 2009.