The days of yore are long gone
All that was made has been undone
The trees no longer whisper
The air grows no crisper
In and out, drift the soulless wraiths
They haunt and beset this hallowed place
With eyes of fire they see your mind
To see them dance is to go eternally blind
No living come here; they’ve chosen their path
Hell hath no fury like the Great One’s wrath
Death has dealt his final blow
Across the river doth the ferryman row
What Evil Hand has shown you the way?
What Evil Mind tells you it is day?
The question posed, the answer was said,
“I come here…for I am dead.”
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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