The Winds Of Sorrow

In the depths  of my insanity,
The world becomes a tomb of distant rooms
So black with hate and full of lies...
The stenche of days of old seep through the
Cracks within the walls of ancient halls inside my
Madley driven soul...
And what of all the memories so morbid and so sordid do the flash of wicked cries for love resound???

A heap of rotting hope contracts the rope
Into a deathgrip
Slowly
Falling
From

The chair
Within my
Room