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XIII. Portals

There is nothing here.

Separated from logic and reason.

The cold is creeping into armor, almost frostbitten.

Where are we?

Where am I?

There is no one here.

And there shall not be.

Rest perhaps, is the only ideal.

Forgotten in time.


Engulfed in swirling light, the wind brings forth the warlock’s spite
Holding ground, we must survive
The dead move through the air, where time and outer began to tear
Falling down, we must survive
All the walls crumble, the sky now blurred in this gateway
As we drown into nothing

The armor’s growing cold
Frostbite taking it’s hold
Death would be welcome here

Turning endlessly we separate
we seperate

Regret is a stain upon your honor
honor is vacant here

Visions are flashing
forever sealed in memory
in memory
Left now are the journeys
that had defined me

The dark is growing blindly
Float now and never be freed
Close your eyes, and take hold
Blue is your skin, diseased with cold

Adventurer, speak now your decree
Tales of lands far as the eye can see
Question not, where is that we should meet
For now all you have is forever bleak



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Dethlehem Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

A D&D campaign that came to life and formed a metal band.


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