In the deepest thoughts where only
colored dragons fodder-I layed
my sword down to hear from my
father-
No words crept from the keep, and
no lines were drawn to save me,
I knelt alone at the temple of
Ariachne-
Eight moons drew and seven suns
draped across the naked darkness
where demons slept-
Where is thoust most honorable
bend? And should not, thy want
any forgiving for thy sins?
A higher power enthralls my soul
and whisks me up to take me
whole-
The dead end is where all men
dwell, and ancients tell of red
hot hell-
Cast aside all wanted lots-save
no mercy for these rots-
For a higher power shall not devour
but raise you even higher.
D.E.M.-05 excerpt from Spirits of
the Citadel-by D.E.M.-05
