Chronicles of the Desolate

Pain rains from the eyes of the afflicted
Suffering knows no bounds in the void
The black hole draws in and slowly consumes
Cries and wailing reverberate in echoes of torment
Who will record the chronicles of the chronically ill?
Desolation takes hold and stifles unmercifully
The dead lie in state but their souls restlessly move
Sudden darkness covers all as the last rose is thrown
Under the black lace veil the last tears are shed for the unknown
The crow looks on from the shadows with piercing eyes
The rejected and desolate gather so heaven will hear their cries
They are counted in the hundreds of millions with sodden eyes
In G minor Devil’s Trill Sonata is played 
It is the dawning of the sun that they eagerly await
In the sufferer’s role call one by one they say their names.

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