The signpost speaks volumes with silence
At last, the grand gateway to despair is here
The spiral staircase winding deep into the depths of the catacomb
My heart skips a beat
Thoughts or remorse follow
Yet, here I stand at the threshold of death
I am torn
Could this surreal monument exist?
The bodies, the remains, can they be real
They have to be
Why else would this house of macabre survive?
The vestiges cry out
The tragic stories pierce my soul
Their feelings of pain and agony
Fill the darkness with life
Tears of mourning from generations
Fill the dampness with sadness
These souls surround me
Over there is a king, 1764 – 1801
A virgin, 1813 – 1835
You, 1845 - 1886
Why are you so familiar to me?
Your presence so real
Almost a vision I have encountered many times before
Leading me down my path
Speaking truths in my nightly ventures into the unknown
What secret do you hold?
Thoughts run wild inside my mind
I must move on
I can see a light at the end of the corridor
Shaken, I climb the stairway back to reality
This crypt burnt into my psyche
Could they truly be the same?