Behold, the deepest well 

See how it was made of soft, malleable stone 
Wonder at its uneven make, every stone laid wrong 
Every groove and crumbling corner sets a wayward tone 
Function over form, ugliness to make it strong, strong, strong

Echoing out of its depths, an endless, wailing moan 
Singular and piercing, none can stand to listen for long 
Doomed to sound its perfect emptiness alone 
Its haunting melody, wicked guile in the shape of song 

There is no hope of escape, should you be snared, not a one 
Should you fall in, you will be met with naught but scorn 
It will devour you whole, that dark abyss, wholly unknown 
And it’ll be my fault, as it has been, since the day I was born