Wicked Halls Of Sin – Unhinged Poem

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…

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