untitled

How dark this place, how grim!
Where the black wings of ravens shadow the sky.
Where the winds blow round the tower high, like the desolate cries of a murdered child.
My own life, once so keen and bright, grows dim.
My own song falters; my pulse is wild.
In my dreams i hear the toll of Death's bell.
Beneath my feet yawn the pits of Hell.....

by bloodrush
posted on 04/28/2007