Death would no longer smile, but bathe us in caustic sighs.
For we have fallen far from the glory of our flesh,
Peering into the abyss only from the comfort of our facades,
Ever fearful that it might one day return our gaze.
Drifting husks that were once your tools of sinister trades,
whispering hollow hymns into oblivions long forgottenโ
aching to taste the familiar, longing for quieter sins.