• Behind an iron gate that confides,
    Rests a cemetery of exile and decay,
    Dwelling if the dead where only misery presides,
    A lost child that dies more day after day.
    A blinding cloak enshrouds every tomb,
    Temple of secrets etched in existence,
    Emptiness and suffering with it's biting perfume,
    To this torment there is no ultimate distance.
    Endless graves line the defiled soil,
    Prisons of forgotten emotions,
    Corpses that were meant to part,
    Shattered stones scattered like oceans.
    A top a lonely obelisk sits a Scarlett rose,
    Faint words crudely clawed in stone,
    Blood stained language that no one knows,
    Here lies the love I shared alone.