Sitting atop the throne of skulls
Ashen face and withered skin
The corpse of oppression rotting
Pecked out eyes gazing
Into inky darkness
Of a once proud hall
In this fortress turned crypt
Long since abandoned
Stabbed in the back by those most trusted
Spiders dance across exposed ribcage
Weaving a new home in the hole
Where once a black heart used to beat
Only now in death
Is the evil tyrant of any use
Everything in ruins
Empire fallen long ago
Lies decaying alongside its ruler
The once proud people
Now the lost and the dammed
Ghosts haunt the streets
And death hangs in the air















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