A serpentine chisels paranoia into the soul,
A plaque of distrust, sculptures of fear,
A wicked work of art as it takes control

O sordid Oizys, of you speaks an urbane seer!
Through his teeth emerges your ambition,
Aspiration of which in repulse I jeer

With dark power, you summon serpents, terror is their mission
With fangs of dismay, they bite the throat,
And the venom sows the poisons of suspicion

Hark! Goddess of anguish, the victims arise with antidote!
Guidance of the trained, support of the friend
No longer, in their tormented cries, shall you gloat

By the sword of Kratos, your bones shall break and bend
Your victims rise, determined are they for fears to cease
Their rage shall be your glorious end

A spectacle it shall be, from fear a sweet release
The terror will no longer control minds
Finally, the tormented shall be at peace!

Lights flicker lamentfully leaning left. The metallic groan of the ship echoes through its chasms. It travels swiftly growing soft as it ventures further into the depths. The crash of waves ceaselessly chanting like an old drinking song. Cargo shifts suddenly straining against its restraint. The dank and damp deck is desolately decorated. In the dim light shadows torture the imagination with visions of fantastic nightmares and beautiful beasts. A violent stop sends you reeling backwards. You’re stomach fills with lead as you reluctantly climb to your feet. The door cracks open to reveal hollow eyes. As the door widens you are greeted by a devilish grin belonging to a devilishly handsome fellow. He exstends his hand but not in offering. No, this was a sinister demand. With shaking hands you sacrifice two golden coins to his strong hand. He grins and holds the door open for you with grandeur. Your breath catches in your thoat. Fear strangles you silently spreading though your body. Paralysis plagues you presently playing with your mind. But this is no time for fear. This is time for peace. So with closed eyes and baited breath you pass through the door and into eternity.

The sun
gold and radiant,
                                                The boy
                                shy and ambitious,

the warmth
that shone brightly,
grew weary as man took flight  


                                            the tower,
                             an illusioned prison,
    held onto the yearning soul tightly

the god
that loved mighty,
the echoing of the lover silenced

                                                  the lover
                                  a tragedy himself,
                calling out to the gold fiend,

the fiend
that mourned nightly,
the golden star shined not bright

                                              the tragedy
                                   lost beneath blue,
         mourning the fiend and himself