there are decades of decay and destruction, in our foundation.
the soil stained red with the blood of the damned.
Pillars constructed on tombs of perjury, a temple where the dead are confined,
Innocence is encapsulated in the structres here, robbed too soon from those unwilling to give,
only to be veiled by those lusting for murder, craving the control of the kill.
If walls could talk, you'd hear it all, the way that they try to get out,
Death lives inside the floor boards here, they don't know there is no escape. It's an eternal fate.
This chamber is their prison for the crime they didn't commmit, their lives sacrificed for the pleasure of another.
Oh what a fate that is,
whats the point of existing, if there is no life to live?