A metallic chime strikes out across the deserted wasteland,
The rusting bell rings once, twice, thrice;
Echoing across the silent scene upon this tranquil twilight,
The starless sky hovering overhead, the moon obstructed.
A calm wind slips across, bringing a light mist
To conceal the hidden horrors upon the plague-stricken land.
Wilted flowers lay stricken by the manacles of decay,
Scattered tufts of dying grass protrudes from the barren soil.
The inhabitants ensnared within an eternal sleep,
This bell shall toll no more.