Where once life bloomed now death reigned o’re,
No starry sky, no sun, no moon
did from bright streams their light outpour,
and all of dust, to dust resumed.
Nothing was left unto that place,
save late shadows still at their posts,
and one was left in damned disgrace,
the soul forever trapped, a ghost.
If man so longs to view this dust,
to see the end of all that is,
one book was penned to stem such lust,
but then only madness is his.
Yet stories say footprints remain,
the tale is told of one who sought,
who walked within, the hidden plain,
and there forbidden knowledge brought.