From this poem,
you will see,
ugliness cannot just be seen.
This is not about the buildings features, but its about the lives its weeped for.

When the night shuts it down,
and no humans are around,
demons like cockroaches, scurry around,
hoping for flesh that they can feast on.

From this night,
once a week,
lost in souls,
this hospital weeps.

Each patient it has lost,
caged in this horror show,
from children to adults to elderly even,
darkness creeps in, looking for weakness.

I now finish this weeping story,
with a flourish that you now know my horror knowledge.