Black Rivers
The walls ooze crimson
of pure pain and agony
To haunt those that
would gaze upon
the horrors of
The Red Walls
As flesh would rot
and bone would break
The Witness would testify
The skys a bitter gray
clouds rain
and the Dead roam
The Demons enslave
The Reaper takes
As all come loose,
the Crescent would be
The dust would choke
the Living of earth
And as the star would set...
The Souls would flee
of crimson bands
in the breeze
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