Valley long with shadows sullen, filled with ash and bones now rotten
brittle dreams and crumpled souls, mired deep in lonesome holes
stretching out toward dying sun, the hands of man and broken sons
the gorge of dead now slick with blood, once a wonder now undone
flowers grow in crimson blooms, now the markings of the tombs
restless corpses carry weights of journeys left to fettered fate
locked to lands where demons mourn, under light of godly scorn
dulling screams and tortured wails, shattered bones weigh twisted scales
In the rings of flame and pain, undying wretches speak a name
hushed in horror, shame, and hate, locked beneath the blackened gate
Waiting, writhing, rampant tide, beneath the dust the scourge resides
Nails of spite and blackened thought, scratch the name the damned had fought
"Here entombs the vile foe, which every demon fears to know
Beware the sound of halted prayer, for it echoes 'rip and tear'
Sealed within archaic runes, here he lies, the man called Doom."
YOU ARE READING
A Poem For Your Thoughts
PoetryA collection of Poems and Prose that were inspired by the many people I have met, and those I have yet to meet.
