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.
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