A broken wind sighs, and snuffs the candle's light
The wisps of smoke from charring wicks heralds the night
Outside the ghosts of mortals, who have yet to die
Wander through the streets, and openly they hide
From inner pain
Fleeing themselves
But can't escape
The gnawing fear...
Inside this place, a structure yet to be condemned
Where possibly many have died, but not so many lived
Fevered supplications to the Lord, the silence rent
Shrieking prayers of misery that I'm not one of them
My spirit wails
And turns the page
Where Truth is found
And no one seeks...