Strangled in a vice grip
Lash out
This is the place where sadness breeds
The desolation in everyone
This is a wasteland full of nameless, faceless, soulless mounds of flesh
Mewling
Writhing in and out of existence
Long for communion
Nothing
The wailing moans
The gnashing of teeth
The deafening, endless, complete isolation
Long for an end, a day of reckoning
Into my bones, let it descend
The holy stones lay scattered at the head of every street
Urban scars wiped clean