The halls of the world, So horrid, so ghastly, The haunting loneliness, The feeling of not being alone The conflicting place that we all shall know. The rotting of flesh, The rusting of metal, The cracking of glass, Some of the terrible, In the halls of the world. The yells of torment, The creak of floorboards, The squeak of mice, Some of the terrible, In the halls of the world. The endless maze, The twists and turns, The long, dark walkways, Some of the terrible, In the halls of the world. The damp concrete walls, The vines that climb so high, The scratches clawed in so deep, Some of the terrible, In the halls of the world. But maybe this isn’t for all, A place designed for me, My own personal hell, Crafted, created, by my own worst enemy, Myself, my fears, everything inside. Maybe there’s a relief, A end to these halls, A field of light, A safe place for all. Yet I can’t find this place, No matter how hard I seek, I’m trapped in this halls, The halls of my own mind.
Music will be added soon
