Trapped inside a mongrel's mind,
  twisted, turning, lurid, divine
Aimlessly wandering halls, dimly lit
by candles on the walls
  where spiders like to sit
where I come across a case
  wooden and dusty
filled with books neatly spaced
  the spines filled with foreign words
and stood up by tigers
     either mis-colored or rusty

Examining the books with gentle care
when something caught my eye's corner
with a glance to the left and with great rise
was the grand spiral stair, where
  splayed meekly on the rise of the walls
was the blood of men and a statue of great size
A serpent, fangs dowsed in rustic red blood
and tail curled around with eyes beading above
seemed to smile with a large bulge along its golden belly
With shudder I wondered what beast sated the statues hunger

My feet, frozen in wonder of serpents message
did not venture forward as my eyes read the ****** paint
For, as my eyes gazed at the dried blood, I noticed sound so faint
Drip. Drop. Drip. Down the rail of the grand old stair
  dripped water onto the marble floor, puddling there
And in the pool of the water, a message did reflect
The symbols were foriegn, yet I read them anyway
How, I couldn't suspect and who could say
Even as I muttered the words I backed away in respect

*This is the easy way to heaven,
                    or so say the men where holywater's bestowed
 But this is where the Serpent herds his devon,
                    You may climb the stairs, but down his throat you'll go