These corridors are lined with eyes
That see through mask and loose-worn lie,
And scrutinise our every breath
As we glide graceless to our death.
The hurt we leave upon a friend
Is nothing but a human trend,
To replace love with fear and hate
The basest of all Human traits.
And where is it we leave our mark
But burned into another’s heart,
Yet if we found it in our Will
In peace would we not leave them still?
Immortal souls which live in Hell
Surround us here on Earth do dwell,
And moving to a darker beat
In greed’s black hallways they will meet.
But souls which rise up from the grate
Their hearts to love and to create,
With selfless acts they seek to give
And burn out bright and truly live.