Trophies

My shadowed halls where silence reigns
The air is thick with ancient stains
Upon the walls their gazes cling
Heads mounted high, in twisted rings

Their necks are bent, their angles wrong
Grotesque mockery of choral song
Each jaw unhinged, each mouth agape
A frozen hymn no voice escapes

Their hollow eyes, they pierce the gloom
Their whispers haunt this endless tomb
No mortal hand could set them so
What placed them here no man should know

And yet they watch with silent plea
A tableau of dark symmetry
Their crooked stares a cruel demand
To join their ranks with broken hands