Posted By: CoLd BlooDed<email@example.com>
Date: 28 May 2006, 10:19 pm
Here I stand, all but stone,
Frozen in place, too alone;
Free me from these blackened chains,
Free me from this inner pain.
The tornado, the storm,
Of crying souls, leaving home;
Left to haunt these lonely halls,
Left to naught but relive their fall.
Corpses lying upon shadowed floor,
Bodies bright from prolonged lore;
Far too many to march over this mess,
Far too many to make second guess.
Leave it to them,
To the monsters condemned;
To leech the life from under your skin,
They come from the dark,
With guttural bark;
Ready to leave with forgotten sin,
Standing in shadows,
Of which are blindingly bright;
Doing your best to blend in,
Flash of death here,
Scream of lead there;
To the Rotten they hold the win.
Is it fate, or cowardice,
That I stand here alone?
Is it guilt, or regret,
For I have laughed at the moans!
Short hall, but longest walk,
On Death's door, all did knock;
Except this soldier, except me,
Except closed mind, fate be the decree.
A different life arrives ahead,
Leaving me empty, I'm already dead;
What happened to all who dared?
What's to become of the only spared?
All normality fades;
Within my veins, new life prudes,
Strange calling, end of my days.