Drifting into nothingness
Where the skies glow red in thick darkness.
I tread through the land of fallen souls
An abode to ghosts with no place to call their own.
They neither speak
Nor make shrieks.
They built fortresses out of graves
Solace was all they craved.
“Who would avenge their deaths?”
For their blood cries from the lowliest depths
Where no one hears
And no ear cares.
A slave to silence they have become
Yielding to the lashes of the land they now belong.
No matter how loud they cry,
It would never be heard
Even though it travels as far as the sky.