The Demon Of The Mire - The Vision Bleak

In the murk of the firs and depth of the ponds

A nameless horror did swell

From whence it came and whither it shall go

Not the wisest man could tell

Just one shuttered light through the darkness shines

A lonesome hut at the fetid moor…

It is filled with fright and with hopeless whines

From a boy, young and pure

Wind howls — evil prowls

At the chamber door

Fog rolls — dead souls

In the dark galore

Wood crack — pitch black

At the chamber door

Swamps brew — clouds spew

In the dark galore

It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore

Whom he calls and haunts by ill desire, he shall rest fornevermore

Through his realms he leads his ghostly choir, he shall rest fornevermore

It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore

The boy it did consume, forever he will dwell

In the malice of his doom

Wind howls — evil prowls

At the chamber door

Fog rolls — dead souls

In the dark galore

Wood crack — pitch black

At the chamber door

Swamps brew — clouds spew

In the dark galore

It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore

Whom he calls and haunts by ill desire, he shall rest fornevermore

Through his realms he leads his ghostly choir, he shall rest fornevermore

It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore