In a dark cavern
A mysterious blood red pond
In a torch-lit room

Fire, steam, white mist
Those who fell were boiled alive
In the red blood pond

Ye O’ chosen one
Stand trial before Atarsh
Cleanse your soul, Ervad!

Ervad of the seven moons
Skin as white as snow

Of silk, raven hair
Lucid eyes of ebony
Breasts and nipples swell

Stood nude in the fore
Dip herself in grace and awe
Basked in burning falls

Freezing, stone cold gaze
Traps the hearts of many men
Lips that never smiled

Out of the water
Bewitching body droplets
Blindingly sparkled

The cloaked man who guards
The door, she walks into yet
A room of cloaked men

Circle on the floor
In demonic inscriptions
With seiza, she lay

Cloaked men in a ring
A strange, ceremonious chant
A cultist ritual

Tremors in the ground
Precarious spikes on ceiling
Awaiting to fall

A blinding red light
Wall of light engulfs the girl
Large rocks fall below

Screaming men, running
Yet nowhere to run or hide
Stabbed, crushed, lost their heads

Shaking with madness
The ground buried them all, and
She was never found

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