Ghost of the Raven

Sinister scene of a dark September sight; Hell's horrific harridan, heralding the night. Tangled and twisted, like taut, twirled twine; Set upon Satan's wicked, shameful, sordid shrine. Interred in a musty cellar deep in the earth; A questionable life, without any worth. Entombed in stone, imprisoned in time; A ghost lost in a world of foulness sublime. A cathedral lovely, it's steeple plated in gold; Under its floors a demon, horrific stories untold. Laid down to rest many a year ago; Sepulcher to its sorrows, troubles and woes. A massive stone door encrypted with ominous crest; Leading down a corridor of perilous quest; Anyone who would dare enter and walk down the stairs; An incredible journey, beyond compare. Ghost of the Raven, it's soiled tainted nest; An edifice embodying every foul, decaying, rotting stench of death. In this ghost's darkened, abysmal' crypt; A squalor befitting betrayal - it's tainted carcass dripped. As I stood in the horror of this insidious crypt; Insanity beckoned to me as I quickly began losing, my tenuous grip. As I gazed down that awful corridor of death; I sensed, no I felt, the dark angel's searing, hellish breath. Conjured from the depths of Lucifer's night, It's evil eyes blazing, in obvious delight. Breaking through the bonds of human desire, Reaching for my soul, to harvest my being for his hellish fire. Realm of darkness, fading into the morning light; Contrasts of the netherworld, and the depths of the night. Radiance of the dawn to dispel all my fears; Ghosts of my conscience - yesterday's tears.