Below the Tortured SurfaceMature

Spawn of mankind,

Laid underground.

The rising pain

Will tear you asunder.

 

No heart above ground

Beats for your tragic soul.

No warmth to be found

In the land where agony reigns.

 

You put yourself down there,

Into the dark ravine.

No one dares to venture

Where no love breathes.

 

Pale-faced and scarred.

Beaten and burned.

Who are you to claim

The world will ever love you?

 

The winds howl

As they descend

Into the wastelands

Where you sleep.

 

The ship’s anchor is down.

You threw it overboard.

The wood splinters your skin.

You’re bleeding and all alone.

 

The path was forbidden,

But by your choice you fled.

Now buried underground,

No one hears cries for help

 

Pale-faced and scarred.

Beaten and burned.

Who are you to claim

The world will ever love you?

 

It is a futile effort

To emerge.

There is no beauty above

To strive for.

 

It is useless

To rise.

The land of agony

Offers no better than us.

 

Sleep,

Close your tired eyes.

Embrace the dreams.

They have your only

Hope for a better life.

 

Rest,

And be assured.

Where you reside

Is as dismal as

Your vision of the above.

 

No hand

Will reach out

Of darkness.

No reception

Awaits you

When you arrive.

 

As you fade,

Your soul arises

To find that there is

No world to rest in.

 

As you die,

Your hope shall falter.

When your eyes gaze

Into the blackness.

 

There is no solace

For our realm.

We have no peace.

We dwell in sorrow.

 

No one can rest

And be at peace.

We all have fallen

Under the gloom’s spell.

 

There is no solace

Deep underground.

There is no solace

Waiting up above.

The End

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