Flowers of death
not wilted they thrive...

When, once upon a night so calm
A maiden found to her alarm...

I toss and turn
And think of the knife...

If I were to speak
(So softly I'd say...

Vaguely specific
Are the words of our own...

In sorrowed halls
A retrospective view...

*Credit for the title goes to Goran-- thanks!*
My thoughts are twisted...

Stolen identity
No longer myself...

The weak, the elite
The best at misery...

Her eyes surceed of sorrow
She looked away too soon...

Ninety-nine men
Walked in straight lines...

I write to calm the silence
To compromise its' ruse...