Dead Tracks 15

version x3

SANCTUM

Our safe walls above empty waves hold no fear, sec pair cybut we know much better.

CLERGY

The voice incants in rhythms beguiling. We are indoctrinated.

CONGREGATION

As one we move headlong towards a conclusion. Our wishes. Our hopes. Our dreams. All rushing into something we never intended and which we will never fully understand for the rest of our piteously short lives. We hope.

RITUAL

Eyes watch us, unwatched by us. It strikes, venomously.