The Visitors

Staring from the blue cold stiffness
 The visitors are here
 They draw near like the flashing
 Of a pallid memory
 That cannot be disposed of
 The blood that has painted your hands
 Guilt, the Erynies
 They move closer
 And surround
 Where are They now?
 Where are the visitors now?
 The blue and white of death
 The blood, now black
 Ever - flowing from slit throats
 The never - blinking
 Frozen eyes
 They appear
 Circle's closing in
 To remind,
 Force the nature
 Of the Ugly
 To float again in the surface
 The Essence of Guilt
 Comes to life
 My victims are aware
 I cannot hide
 Did you see Them?
 What have you seen?
 Please understand this,
 There is no true option
 As I draw the razor
 The Visitors are here!