these walls

the walls are dark, and these catacombs zig-zag around under the ground. i whisper once, i speak out twice. these walls are filled with bones. the long-since lost, bleached white bones of knights and broken martyrs. they're quiet and still, trapped in the walls. i think i can hear them sometimes. in these catacombs, they call out my name. they whisper, and hum electric currents. the volts flow through me, and out through the ground. the subway rails pass overhead, and i hear the bones all chatter. what's it matter? down here, i've got nothing but time. i have nothing but time. i hear echoes. i hear hatered. i hear walls drip-dripping red. who the fuck are you to think that you are so important to me? these walls are cold, and they are empty. oh, these walls are a lot like you. can you feel? can you breathe? no. these walls are just like you.