Writers Lounge

Underground spillover of sickness
and the stench of death...
men, women and children confined
and condemned, condemned to suffer
even after the hour glass has ran out
of time, there is an un-natural coldness
down the long and winding dark halls
you can still hear their screams
reverberating off the walls as Mary King
still comes to the children to stop
their crying as it was in the last few
minutes of her dying, there's just no rest
for those who die a violent death...
Well now and MARY KING'S CLOSE has
changed over the centuries but the ghost's
remain, remain thirsty in their hunger for life
oh what unimaginable horror, agony, pain
and misery in a dreary and heartless plight
and you can still hear their screams
reverberating off the walls, you can still feel
their breath on the back of your neck
down the cold long and winding dark, dark
halls,men,women and children confined and
condemned to linger in their suffering well
but there is no rest, no rest for those who
die such a gruesome and violent death...
Underground spillover of sickness and the
stench of death, unimaginable horror and
misery, you can still hear those blood curling
screams coming from MARY KING'S CLOSE
MARY KING'S CLOSE...
under quarantine!