Enter the World of Silas Thorne

I walk this road with a bluing corpse, the life I built from dust,
A future murdered by the hands I'd foolishly learned to trust.
I drag its weight to the edge of nothing, a final, lonely parade,
A testament to the brutal cost of the charitable games I played.

And still some broken part of me begs for a different end,
A whispered plea to a silent God, a ghost of a former friend.
But is my prayer for my own soul, or for the love they bled and killed?

I thought I'd drowned my demons in the struggle to ascend,
But your betrayal taught them how to swim, and now they're back again.
They rise with all your voices, saying I'm only what I spend.
Father? God? Does your silence mean you're in on it, too, my friend?

Now a blizzard of their indifference freezes me where I stand,
Deaf to my cries in a crowded room, alone in a foreign land.
I used to walk with purpose, with a future in my stride,
Now I'm just the hollowed-out shell where all their comforts died.

Footsteps echo on the stone,
In this forgotten, empty home,
Where ghosts of memories freely roam,
And chilled winds whisper, "You're alone."

Portraits watch with painted eyes
Beneath the cold and bloodshot skies,
Where truth and clever fiction lies,
And every hopeful promise dies.

The statues shift along the walls,
Each corner shadows my downfall.
The crumbling architecture calls—
"Come here, I have just what you need."
My demons whisper, and I heed.

Black feathers fall on frosted ground,
A stark and silent hallowed mound,
And every mournful, haunting sound
Echos where lost hopes abound.

The raven cries its woeful tune,
Beneath the pale and watchful moon,
Knowing what will happen soon,
When darkness comes to claim its boon.

Beaming eyes are pools of liquid night,
Reflecting the forgotten light,
A glimpse into the coming blight,
That bleeds the world of it's sight.

So listen for the rasping caw,
When chilly, heavy shadows fall,
For when the Raven dreams of the pall,
Will I be able to resist the call?