DoctorJohnSherlock

We lay there weeping, we don't make a sound. They call us softly, but we're not around. We're stuck in this hell, to them it is but a mystery. They search and call, until eventually they fall. We want to yell out, tell them of the sins. They can't hear our cries, we're stuck underground. We were buried alive, now we're back to stay. We'll take their lives, this time it shall be us who survives.