I’ve been laid to rest in eternities of cold.
Death vents no warm breaths.
The rigor mortis of my cadaver
constricts my song’s once soulful pipes.
They say Hell is hot – oh contrary!
The inferno keeps no dancing flames,
my abyss tis’ one of petrified eyes of icy realism!
Tormenting stares forever!








I like how you say “they say hell is hot…” Who knows it could be cold as” hell” this is a good piece