I was living alone in a mansion, one of old.
The walls decorated in time's decor
The stained windows hid the faces from the cold.
In which they cried to me on their cold floor.
For which I heard, they wished me harm
Wanting me to burn in the icy fire whom claims.
As time aged the home grew far from warm
As cold air came through so did the icy flames.
With it it brought those who were torched
With their faces of cold they possessed my home.
They chased me up and down but couldn't touch.
As I ran out I failed to notice their chrome.
Their skin shined of icy cold, their hands frayed.
They grabbed me and clawed, I soon to succumb.
With what was left of me, they stayed.
Watching me join them made me numb.
My body no longer mine, it belongs to hell.
For which never came to claim, so oh well.
