Pray on my weakness, sisters of suffering...
These halls are an abyss of clinical darkness
Shrouded in cold mists of nothingness; the promise
Of a bloody demise is enticing; a playful addiction.
Metallic glints of flickering flashlight
Against the hollow sides of your steel pipe,
Light the darkness; let the torture race begin.
Am I losing my grip on reality, or did it let go
Of me too long ago...?
Something is fading; but red drips through the mist.
Do I really want to leave?