It must have been a dream
A glimpse of the past
Image of a boy
Floating thru my head
His mother was an artist
Disciple from below
Colors on the canvas
Portraits of those undead

She paints her child's portrait
Her eyes are dark and cold
Captures his image skillfully
Imprisoning his soul
Many times in past lives
She's performed her evil deed
Torments spirits endlessly
Feeds her hellish needs

Lost within a world
The servant fabricated
The Portal lies beyond the real
In a portrait, she's created
Locked inside a blackened void
Time forever frozen
A helpless soul
Cries out in pain
For he knows he is the chosen

Screams pierce the endless dark
Drifting thru his nightmare
The torture leaves its dreaded mark
Feels his mother's icy stare
Within a morbid state undead
Never to find his way
Can't escape from the red
Evermore his mother's slave

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