Chaos

A place that is governed by flame and flail, Where between both worlds there is no veil. Stark neon lights illuminate not, but taint… Lure the moths quickly to their willing fate. A place that revels in heartache and waste, Where spoken word brings only deceit at pace. Noise from the street protrudes no more, For sound here belongs only to an immoral core. A place that offers merely a glimpse of Hell, Where bodies writhe and twine to cast a sweaty spell. Death by proxy induced freely on the sidewalk, Your soul’s only echo etched on stone in chalk.