Solace.
The essence of fear present in these creatures
On unhallowed grounds they stand, the faceless
Abnormalities devoid of life
Slaves to a turbulent master
Buried under new forced existence
Venturing on terror's wings
Faceless abnormalities devoid of life
The truly fortunate ones know not of their existence
Those who are fortunate are pleasantly unaware
The fortunate ones know not of my remains
An altar of clay, and my cross to bear
Disgusted by their movements
Shadows dance along cracked skin
Clinging to a malevolent flame
Clay creatures scream sounds of torment
Lives lost engorged, by inanimate material
This endless expanse shadows upon an ever-present barrier
Unrecognizable isolation lies beyond his horrid domain
Another one has been chosen
Another subservient sacrifice to satisfy the sculptor
Unable to retreat, unwilling to surrender
Scattered minions know my fate
In his design, to be molded by the maker
I am losing myself and my individuality
Becoming one in this world, sown with hate
Baptism of clay
Buried under new existence
This world's twisted master has chosen a sacrifice of subservience

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