She lay on the icy ground,
Looking upwards; not a sound
She would listen, hoping to hear
The cries of the others; their cries of fear.
She knew she wasn't alone
Not in Hell, yet not at home
The silence screams all around,
Not a noise; not a sound.
But in the darkness as she lay
Insanity would always play
Twisted illusions in her head
Not a sound; the others are dead.
She was the last in a line of dying whores
Only time will tell. . . only silence knows.
She was the last in a line of dying queens
Only time will tell. . . only silence screams.