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Rolling over in pain, a cry of help is hear.
Trees so thick, one could get lost. So lost ones mind wonder, wonder that they do, to the point that they shall bleed, as they fall into the mist that shall eat out there soul into a dark obiviloin were peace has no meaning where souls are forever lost.

claws of rage rip through thy soul, blood smear the walls. Yells fill the air, one sits there, one rips them, one has tis smile of joy spreading ever so larger by ever spill of blood by ever yell, be that he shall be the terror of ones dream, he shall roam from dream to dream looking observing wait for thy one's next victum to tis sick pleasures of pain.

wonder... wonder... wonder to that black door at the end of the never ending hall. Light of candles alume the halls, screams of pain seem to be louder of each and ever step. Chills run down my spines, the cold breeze is an unwelcome blanket, fear spikes the depths of my cold heart.

Tear, rip, burn,
scream, yell, plea,
as they do no one shall come.
help shall not come.
people that come have also falling into dispair.
pain shall appear and the same screams thy calls they shall call.
hope is not in this domain.
HOpe is just a figment of thys imagionation.



I want to add more but... i have to stop.. ot i might not control myself later.