The mourning sigh of the desert's elegy
Whispered untold stories and blasphemy.
Through the eldritch keen, I hear
A lost and forgotten wail of fear.
Beyond the sandy veil and over yonder dune,
I see the setting sun and its dusky gloom,
Forever resting before my doom.
As the twilight fades from my sight,
I feel the squirm of eldritch fright.
I often ask where I be and where I am,
Though the answer is clear for I am damned.
This is the hell I tread,
Where forever I dread
The perpetual fear that it spreads.
The maddening keen of desert sand
Calls to me to join its melodic band.
I refuse to partake in its melancholy,
Though my heart shrivels at my folly.
There he sits, atop that mound,
Weighing scales with naught a pound,
Upon his throne, forever bound.
Sands' maelstrom eternal sway,
I dare not utter a word to say.
As I look upon the judging king,
I forever see the eternal thing.
Forever he sings,
The eldritch king,
The Sands of Time's perpetual ring.
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