Teeming shadows of darkness unknown

Silent, silent like the frowning clouds of night.

Tears of blood run down the wrists of the broken-hearted.

Chained, chained to the red brick wall

Stained with the blood of those who have died.

The cadavers have risen;

They do not rest in peace

In hopes of warning those who wish to die…

Weeping willows cry for the living,

Out of pity on their pathetic meanings of existence.

Fragile dreams and hope break under the stern grounds of reality.

Tears of blood run down the faces of the broken-spirited.

No light. No hope. No joy.