Acidic Pipe-Torture

There were metal pipes climbing the walls,

And clustering on the ceiling like silver snakes,

And one would nearly expect to see Mario and Luigi hop out of them,

As if this was a weird bonus-level,

The floor was smooth cement,

With white tiled walls beneath the pipes,

There were no 'real' windows,

Just a cold pane of green-blue one-way glass,

So that they can see us but we can't see them,

The needles rained from the ceiling,

Syringes of green chemical liquid,

Lodged themselves in our skin,

And the burning pain began to eat away at us,

Until our skin flakes away like paint,

We are scarred, shaking from the drugged needles,

We are held together by only thread stitches,

Trapped in the torture room,

Where the pipes spew acid rain and dissolve us,

So we're just acidic puddles on the glowing cement.

The End

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