Symphony of Death

Symphony of Death My days were written and forgotten like the master and the pen I have become just a shade of the past a tale of the ages long gone A symphony played to the dead hear the cry of the master and the pen forgotten by the shade of the hand which but wrote us; our fate done and composed If i became a God I would remember them, like Pied the piper it was he who swayed the rats through the streets Like the composer I am I heed to the Symphony of Death.