Cold Skin کے بول

So comes the night, no time for rest or sleep Barricade the door, tired and weary with hands so sore Counting bullets, so many days left in this hell Days are a haze... trying to sleep yet getting none Nights are infernal; it feels like life undone They crush and pound, their cold hands on our door In greater numbers, than ever before... They storm our bastion, grasping for our souls Their cold skin... I feel it in my dreams A thousand grasping fingers, choking my dying screams There's no escape... Upon this island afar Seeking shelter in resistance, just like in my life before The great escape from another life, it stranded me in this secluded hell If I shall die this freezing night... at least I will do it well