The darkness grows around.
A silent death lurks in the void.
Perched on a throne of flesh.
His orders echo into the night.
Disfigured, I run in fright.
In the musky air, a stench grows clearer.
Rotting corpses grow nearer.
Crimson sparks from their mouths.
Pooling, the plasma crusts over.
A lake of emotion, I’m submerged into the unknown.
Suffering, I fall to my demise.
Damned for an eternity, never to find happiness.
-Chris Cagle 11/6/02