They'll Know

Here I sit pen in hand

To write what’s in my head

On this page the words I’ve put

Are written in blood now brown

What I write you will read

You’ll tell me, we think alike

But you’ll say, what I wrote

Are dreams of things unreal

You say my words spoke to you

And someday you’d like to write

Truly you, know not what torture is

For if I could, I’d stop this night

Can’t you hear those demons scream

“Write what you want about us there

Those mortals will never believe

What waits for them down below

Yet after death they’ll understand

What you wrote was subline

As they burn to ashes they’ll know

What is running through your mind”