In the silence where shadows bleed,
Madness whispers, fed by greed,
Crimson stains on cold, pale skin,
Echoes of anguish, where nightmares begin.
A stage of horror, where hope decays,
Gnarled memories dance in forgotten bays,
In the grip of despair, the unhinged scream,
As death's soft touch shatters the dream.
Through shattered minds, the stories unfold,
Of madness and gore, of the weak and the bold.

In shadows' clutch, where whispers sigh,
The seven sins in silence lie;
Pride, a throne of thorns and rust,
Greed, a serpent wrapped in dust.
Lust ignites in crimson haze,
Wrath, a flame that claims its blaze.
Envy's gaze, a venomous dart,
Sloth, a plague that haunts the heart.

Beneath the moon's dissatisfied light,
Blood of fallen angels stains the night,
Withering gods, in corners, brood,
As darkness cloaks the hunger for crude.
In this realm of fractured dreams,
The sins entwine, or so it seems;
In the grip of the abyss we dwell,
Where echoes of despair weave a tale to tell.