Dark Abyss

Dark Abyss These dusty floors breed virus air, With sinful souls that never care. These focused eyes are seeing red, A growing city of the dead. Empty, hollow, all but sleepy, Psycho villains thrive on creepy. Awake I dream and walk my trance, While fiends compose a terror dance. A cemetery of the proud, Some are scheming and some are loud. The blood it flows, it drips, it’s cold, A tale that’s screaming to be told. The artist’s sting of tattooed hate, An influx in the murder rate. Download madness and programmed pain, The ugly truth of violent fame. A chaos theory of the fight, Satanic children of the night. We’re bruised and broken, mad and scarred, A dark abyss that’s called Menard. Kyle W Morgan, Menard Correctional Center, Maximum Security, Chester, Illinois