In Us

© 1998 Watcher
All rights reserved.

A soul, tarnished and black,
Festering in a cage of bone.
It sees light, yet it cannot touch it,
It feels warmth, yet it cannot keep it.
In darkness it sits,
Wading in stagnant pools of life.
A lady of pain torments its very essence,
Forever tearing, gnashing, reopening closed wounds.
Its only companion,
A cold, pulsing lump of ice,
Deep, frozen, it squeezes its own existence
Further into oblivion it goes with each beat.

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