On a far side, the darkest corner of all,
lies beyond a length, a life in enthral,
Always in their rings, the mourning bells,
Oh! but not a sound leaves that torrid hell !
In hollered ire, weeping waves they ride,
a flood of torment, eyes always they hide,
caught in treacherous trap, a soul will subside,
hollow promises they, always in echo inside.
A quest it gleams, for a truth in chains,
cells corrode, in screams those torrent pains,
words they savage, a mind becoming insane,
And in her sacrifice, this game of endless slain.
A slave in use, in their game of relentless greed,
heart moans in gore, where they ruthlessly breed,
ageless dungeon, bound by spell , in lies her unheard pleads,
and without soul or two to grieve, that life slowly recedes.