Walk My Mile

Ramble me away from here,
past the grieving ghostly scraps
of my soul cemetery.
Oh, devil on my shoulder
sing to me a lullaby,
burn the bridges to the ground,
and say it's all my fault.
Some love's like a murder of crows,
that scatter when you approach too fast.
They don’t make a sound.
Silence is sacred 
in an unholy world.