Lazarus Behind Walls

Have you ever wonder what lies
inside the maws? There are not
enough screams to decipher.
Only the thread that sews the
mouth prevail within the reach
of your blind sight. The absurdity
colors the unfilled vermillions of
its lips. A silent facade that kissed
the world, built the walls that trembles
from its roots.

The maws kept its voice, cowering
in the soils of pacific. Must it remain
in silence as it spares the last ember
of its torch, else the curtains will
remain unburnt.

Them rotten flesh forbids many
a mortal to tread far enough
beyond the throat of the maw
and the realm beyond the walls.
Unknown what tramples the soil,
the abode beyond sleeps in the
Chapel of Rest.

"Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
Live through the flame of a match.
Incinerate what might breathe a hope
and the ashes must remain in the wind,
astray."

The world is a reaper. You does
not simply amble on its bosoms.
The voices hide in the iron maidens.
A feast. A dance among the hearses.
The funeral of crucifixion as you
carry your own coffin.

LAZARUS LIVES AGAIN BEYOND THE WORLD.