In a Statue's Arms.

I push open these rusty bars,
And enter this hollowed ground,
The air hold hints of wickedness,
There is something wrong here.

There's no one here with me,
But I feel the glare of eyes.

I feel all alone,
Even though I am,
Surrounded by cement tombs,
And statues made of stone.

Suddenly I stop,
Grabbed by a concrete hand,
I feel it crushing me,
I just cannot escape,
Calling out for help,
But this call is not heard.

Cold hands are holding me,
Slowly crushing my very being,
This is my punishment,
For stepping foot on sacred ground.

Sunrise over this place,
Blood has settled on the ground,
Mourners find my body,
Lying in a statue’s arms.

B3oh!