When the storm of Hades blow
and the roads are dug up by gargoyles
and the tempest shouts like the banshees
the wise traveler finds shelter in vapor of light
far from the acidic dusts of disintegrating ghouls
condemned to pollute the pious and unaffected sages
angels fear not fools paths but knows wisdom errs always
they will spew to irritate but who hears the wounded cry of wraiths