here in the mirthless grim and dungeon dim where darkness hangs like rotting skin from brooding demons sick with sin our soul is but a phantom limb and we the disembodied twin of the emptiness we dwell in that swallows everything within and makes a coffin of our skin filled with all that might have been now the dire moans of wind lament their bitter requiem as devils fanged come stealing in and in a froth my thoughts begin to tear my body limb from limb ...here in the mirthless grim and dungeon dim.