I woke beneath a wringing sheet last night
To phantom figures cast on midnight screens
They rose in opalescent sheets of light
Their trains were wet with rot from loathsome dreams
Morbid lights crept over the planes of flesh
That spun across those shifting, spectral screens
Sharp white incisors rhymed with stark white eyes
As invective rose like bile behind my teeth
Hopes and promises turned to screams and cries
Violence sticky with the shame beneath
Powerless I lay to efface those shades
Of lust and hate, and fear, and love, and grief
Sunrise finds me bound with the shameful tie
That I can neither break nor can deny.
Theme Park at its Darkest 