The stygian void

The walls are melting in this place.

I don’t know where it is I am or why I’m here,

There’s makeup running down her face,

And she looks incredibly sincere.

 

In a dream it all makes sense,

I hear them talking in my sleep.

By the day it’s more intense,

How mournfully they weep!

 

Awake until the life from me has fled,

Consumed by your delicate memory.

An air of detachment as it takes me to bed,

Strange little words that you said to me.

 

“Free from your flesh there’s no need to get dressed.”

So I fell awhile to contemplation.

The seraphim are in distress,

And I’m stuck in the stygian void of damnation...