Dark World

Far past the peaks of cold Stygian mountains,
Far beyond oceans where black waters roll,
Lies a dark place from which all despair fountains,
That sickens the spirit and shrivels the soul.

All there are doomed to a life of regretting.
Many are destined to wander in fear,
Cursed to existence of endless forgetting
Of people they loved and the friends they held dear.

Demons cavort in the depths of the mire,
And whisper of ceaseless and unending dread.
The entire landscape is a mural of fire,
With trees all around that are blackened and dead.

Bright is the moon over dust-covered ledges,
Throwing its beams upon moss-ridden caves.
Slowly a shadow across the ground edges,
And blankets the soil that covers the graves.

Great is the evil which dwells in the grotto,
Perched upon rocks that are covered in slime.
Pain is its anthem and death is its motto.
It knows that it only has limited time.

Deep are the streams of a black fetid river
Flowing through ruins of vapor and bones.
Creatures within the ooze huddle and shiver,
Shrieking their madness with tormented groans.

Dark are the heights of abandoned old towers
Slowly decaying 'neath storm-laden skies.
Halls are within them that all light devours,
Always destroying and never to rise.

Cold is the stone of the vine-covered palace,
Looming above the vast frost-covered ground.
Living within is the essence of malice,
Stalking and hunting with nary a sound.

Lost is this world in which evils endure.
Gone are the ones who have been there before.
Its past is unknown and its future unsure.
It must be kept hidden forever and more!