Silence falls upon the screaming voices as the lights grow weary. Tiny beads of sweat paralyzing, vitriolic taunts of the demons dance begin. Puddles form upon the heart, the masquerade covered in the nights blood. Prayers for darkness extend to the fathers tongue. The curse of the mornings light, begs for deaths door. The river follows the burned channel, as agony stains the cheeks. Loves mark, tattoos the memories, and haunts the web. Grasping for something greater than air, loves grip tortures the soul. The light promenades the corpse to the blinded eyes, as mockery hides the night. Bastille's hold falters not, death awaits before dawn's prize. Happiness squandered with premises of a future. Silence, silence, silence, rocks tumble no more. Padded hope brings a moment's relief.