Black Rivers

The walls ooze crimson

of pure pain and agony

To haunt those that

would gaze upon

the horrors of

The Red Walls

As flesh would rot

and bone would break

The Witness would testify

The skys a bitter gray

clouds rain

and the Dead roam

The Demons enslave

The Reaper takes

As all come loose,

the Crescent would be

The dust would choke

the Living of earth

And as the star would set...

The Souls would flee

of crimson bands

in the breeze