Descending into the tunnels of underworld,
Through the steps bloodied and worn,
Hoping to find you there.
Exposed by the despotic storm,
Since I didn't seem to meet the norm,
True abomination in the eye of sincere.
Until the fortune lied inside the wishing well,
I considered myself worth one can tell,
Huddled in chains with uneasy alliance.
It was massacre as everything was left obliterated,
Futile for those of scared, divergent and hated,
Left hanging in sanguine reminiscence.
I thought it was merely a trick of the light,
When together we flew away from the fight,
Powered by the vigorous confidence surge,
Disappearing into the maze of carcasses,
and, furthermore, relief found in the grayest arsenic,
May the melancholic tunes be wafted in funeral dirge.