Phantasm guides swell and fall,

upon the long and faded road,

‘neath the bright master’s gaze.

Moved along intangible wall

carrying our most heavy load,

thru long, narrow, winding maze.

Scent of blood the wall around,

blood of scathed, masticated

living corpses laying green below.

Color emerald on sides abound,

blades of flesh cut flesh serrated,

spilling gore in the unholy show.

Tree the ending of path ahead,

where the crossroads meet and end

and where final trespass shall die.

Fish-hook dagger many on bled,

wretched cause to flesh unmend

open bowels and leave them lie.

Spindle-wound about that tree

bowels as thread to be spun

about that rugged, barky pole.

Tortured screams about be

lingering to show what is won:

torture fulfilling its bane role.