I condemn you to the deathly shadows,
Where you shall be consumed in your grief
Said the dark lord with a grin too shallow,
And the old frail man could do nothing but weep.

The burning gate to the pit of hell's dark fury,
Began to open with a noise of thousand screams
The old man laid his eyes upon where he would be buried,
And scars tore his skin with misery he had never seen.

The dark lord began to whisper the song of death,
And the world shook as if welcoming another soul
Through the ashes of the past and future he was led,
To the grave of dark where he would be mold.

The sky burst Into the flames of a dying star,
And the blood-stained rain began to fall
The time lay ever so still at the despaired hour,
Soon the under-world will devour his all.

Bearing the chains of his own depraved suffering,
The old man began to count his last wish
And the clouds of wrath lay awake and thundering,
As the vision of the old man began to harbour mist.

At Every step he fell deeper than his last sorrow,
As the blood-lust blades tore through his surface
Where ever must he go his consience wouldn't follow,
He caught himself from the storm in a withering maze.

The dark lord was now but a memory of past,
He was in the hands of a far more evil creed
His maker had given upon his soul at last,
And the mute angles could now do nothing but grieve.

The arms of age had at last freed him of his thoughts,
He was rising to a world very different from his own
In those moments of torment he was alive but lost,
And could give up every weight he borne.

The eyes were left open but he was long gone,
Like a mechanical animal he walked in daze
His thoughts weren't his own but the heart did mourn,
Tracing the walls of his grave where he was laid.

The white mountains rose above the golden lake,
And every breeze would now numb his soul
In the wonder-land of death he was made,
Only now his nightmares weren't his anymore.

But of the dark lord.