Piteous silhouettes hung loosely in the dark
bloodstained pools evaporated, staining like a birthmark.
Even the wind was mindful not to be found in this place.
static was the air like corroded snowflakes,  stark
reminders that this was decaying like a living carcass.

Pictures woeful reminders of moments when life exhaled.
But nothing is collecting only the whispers veiled
behind nothingness. The threshold of dismay was
as quiet and suffocating that none were failed
they just lingered behind the walls, breathless life in pause.

Conception of what lay within the ebbing stone walls.
Feathers onyx as nightfall were called angel falls,
for no crows were seen, but the feathers fell, was this
the gateway now to hell. Trapping all within its halls.
Dismay as life ebbed around, live consumed by this abyss.