Puppet NurseMature

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?

 

The End

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