As grey Styx waters fill thy veins
With tears of sheer blood thou cry
Where the Wind of Madness reigns
Between dry soil and pallid sky.
This plane is infinitely grim.
Long winding caverns crook and lie.
Dark gods can twist all paths at whim.
Black suns traverse quicksilver sky.
Scream out and hear only whisper,
Live, eating sand and drinking dust.
Thou art imprisoned in some distant
Mysterious future, shady past.
From now on back-forward strive
Or fall for the curse-gift that maims.
Forsaken. Pointless. Dead-alive.
Feel Stygian waters in thy veins.
02.02.05
Pandemonium
© Copyright: Дориан Лемэль, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106090301504
Свидетельство о публикации №106090301504
Рецензии