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The Wretched and The Damned
In the dead of night, they roam the earth,
Tortured souls with hearts devoid of mirth.
Their anguish echoes through the empty streets,
Their symphony of sorrows, a dirge that repeats.
Haunted by the shadows of their past,
They wander aimlessly, lost and aghast.
Their eyes, windows to a world of despair,
Doomed to suffer, beyond all repair.
Each step they take, a burden to bear,
Trapped in a cycle of relentless nightmare.
Whispers of agony fill the cold, still air,
Their wails of torment, too much to share.
Their existence cloaked in darkness profound,
The wretched and the damned, forever bound.
Cursed to linger in perpetual gloom,
Their final rest an unreachable tomb.
In the shadows they dwell, forsaken and alone,
Their shattered spirits, never to atone.
The wretched and the damned, a tragic tale,
A haunting lament, in eternal hell.
© Brian C. Jobe
Tortured souls with hearts devoid of mirth.
Their anguish echoes through the empty streets,
Their symphony of sorrows, a dirge that repeats.
Haunted by the shadows of their past,
They wander aimlessly, lost and aghast.
Their eyes, windows to a world of despair,
Doomed to suffer, beyond all repair.
Each step they take, a burden to bear,
Trapped in a cycle of relentless nightmare.
Whispers of agony fill the cold, still air,
Their wails of torment, too much to share.
Their existence cloaked in darkness profound,
The wretched and the damned, forever bound.
Cursed to linger in perpetual gloom,
Their final rest an unreachable tomb.
In the shadows they dwell, forsaken and alone,
Their shattered spirits, never to atone.
The wretched and the damned, a tragic tale,
A haunting lament, in eternal hell.
© Brian C. Jobe
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