• All the world
    A mere illusion
    Of a girl
    With bad contusions
    She lies in bed
    Awake at night
    Heavy as lead
    Eyes without light

    Her cries are hidden
    Beneath her somber face
    Her soul is injured, worn, and ridden
    Tired of the deadly race
    She hears the sleepless dead
    Bang on the creaky floor
    They're anger is not fed
    Yet they always yearn for more

    She listens to them yelp
    As her father beats the whore
    But no one calls for help
    Because someone closed the door.