Easy there tiger, slow your breathing ratio, back down.
Damaged people will always corrupt your life and any second now you could become the rightful heir, the dead of the night holding the grieving legacy mastered by the grim horseman.
Stories of old, tales of new give the sweetest perfection, but they still don't kill the loneliness brought by decaying innocence devoted with a decadent mind to your body in flames.
Put in delirious words, it's time you stop dancing on hollow ground.
The dead of night, twilight's zombies will never satisfy your morbid hunger with their silver spoons.
Easy there when you ride for your next victim, for I know where and when.