A blade drawn upon high,

cutting though the cord that held it up,

thy neck removed from the shoulders,

the head disconnected from the soul,

a fevered dream while awake,

satanic playthings,

flesh upon dead flesh,

sewn on backwards and inside-out,

decaying within,

like your twisted soul,

trapped without hope,

headless and alone,

the wicked halls you walk,

the halls you call your home…