Ugly, empty, cold and bleak
lies the room around my weak
body shaking. What is wrong?
I hang from ceiling down headlong.
It all seems to have purpose.
Metallic noise is coming close.
The door unlocks and I can't stem
the giant scorpion.
The spike it rams down my throat.
Am I about to explode?
It's so deep and it's so cruel,
I can't scream and I can't puke.
It is pumping something strange
in my body to arrange
me as a surrogate, as a womb
here in my tomb.
Reckoning they create.
Reckoning is our fate.
Checkmate!
I feel it growing and it hurts.
The little scorpion soon alerts.
It chops its way to freedom now.
My skin is bursting, I live somehow.
I was used, but now it's done.
The scorpion heads to the unknown sun.
Strings are ripping, I fall down,
and smash on the ground.
Reckoning they create.
Reckoning is our fate.
Checkmate!
Ugly, empty, cold and bleak
lies the room around my weak
body shaking. What is wrong?
With broken bones I lay along.
Piles of teeth and piles of skin,
piles of eyeballs and I'm within.
They don't care to kill at least,
they are a mirror of the beast.
Checkmate!
I'm of avail now.
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