Silent Hill

[the Draç]

On top of the Mountain, her soul is gold.

Create, debate, it's a long road.

Upset, she loves, she acts so fake.

In love with spirits, her soul then bakes.

Ignite, it's warm, it turns too hot.

Turns into a pillar of salt, like the love one of Lot.

Babylonian Energy, the temple on top.

Fell from grace to the pit, she laughs then stops.

Sitting in her room, the cream of the crop.

Ignore at all costs, no foundation, no rock.