In fathomless depths, where darkness thrives,
A city submerged, a dream contrived.
The Rapture’s Requiem, a tale of woe,
Of twisted fates and shadows below.
A utopia built, in ocean’s embrace,
A haven for minds, to thrive and chase.
Yet in its heart, a darkness grew,
A thirst for power, a world askew.
From lofty spires to murky halls,
A twisted tale of Rapture’s fall.
The protagonist, a stranger lost,
Enters a world, where lines are crossed.
Through haunted halls, and eerie gloom,
The echoes of lives, in watery tombs.
The choices made, the paths they tread,
Define the living and the dead.
The plasmids’ gift, a double-edged sword,
Bestowing power, yet chaos toward.
To wield such might, a choice to bear,
The line ‘tween man and monster, where?
The Little Sisters, pure and frail,
A moral quandary, a harrowing tale.
To save or harvest, a choice to weigh,
In Rapture’s depths, where darkness sways.
The Rapture’s Requiem, a chilling verse,
Of human nature, both blessed and cursed.
A story of choices, of right and wrong,
A somber reminder, to which we belong.
For in this tale, we find a truth,
A mirror reflecting, our darkest roots.
The choices we make, the lives we change,
In Rapture’s Requiem, forever engraved.
And as we leave, this sunken grave,
The memories linger, of choices made.
The Rapture’s Requiem, a haunting refrain,
A testament to the human stain.
