Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

winners and losers can’t be the same,

for one or the other this song is made,

so don’t be a criminal and ignore the order,

you life don’t mean anything if you don’t have a place,

the scales of justice are our disgrace,

holding terror above the other,

we call ourselves civilised,

yet we fear each other,

the door to the cellar is open,

the cupboard in the closet is empty,

just like the winter solstice of man,

don’t make the sea say it,

for the waves have come apart,

like arms spreading wide open,

step back in,

and become…