O CHAMADO - The calling

Walking alone I go aimlessly

Condemned to roam around endlessly

I have no choice I see no escape

I hear no voice but I feel a shape

It takes my breath makes me blind

Sufocates myself uneasy unkind

I have to flee where to I don’t know

Myself I am seeking for a place to go

My foe is persistent follows me straight

It traces my paths, disguised soul mate

Never know where I go however I should

Digging deep holes on the route of the woods

My enemy goes seeking virile and secure

It chases my shadows determined obscure

I have nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep

My paths are dirty my roads are steep

I move to the left swerve to the right

My sensory nerve sticks my spine

It’s fear it’s dread that keeps me awake

The devil inside shows me the stake

I know that running I cannot avoid

I am getting decayed, weak paranoid

I refuse to listen, I hold my breath

However I feel it’s the calling of the Death