Madder Mortem

There are many names for the place I'm in
It's a different kind of hell
There is room enough
but too many stairs
No one asks and no one tells
With each door you pass,
another set of traps revealed
Pin-on smirks that smell like fear
See behind the pretty faces
There's just no substance underneath
It's all a game, and how I hate it
when all their fancy words turn out to mean the same
Let it seep – let it slide