Sores of the Sarcophagus.
Nails etch in a mind uncouth, Callously ignore advice for the youth. "Do not visit ivied Sarcopha good lad, or visit dead streets about leaking sores". The lesson ignored, venturing to explore Decrepit Sarcopha. I step and I creep, Sweeping ill vines from their sleep. A forgone conclusion, a sore so deep, Witness to terrors that leave me to weep, For lost Sarcopha. As shadows do fall, A teror does rise. All flesh too seared to describe, A gag reflex, I choke and reveal; Formless devils crawl to unpeel. Shadows rape Sarcopha. If only you knew, 5 bullets let loose, And left me to sleep, the last is my noose. Buried beneath Sarcopha.=> ..