Herein lies a tale of malice and chains entwined.
In darkest depths of Id, dive into its maw that yawns wide.
Coiling mists tangle at the foot of a castle, its spires outlined.
Standing before Pandæmonium, the dread dares not subside.
Venture past its gates and hear its scream racking the mind.
Now feel the chill that peels back thine hide.
The very place breaths upon ye, scent by iron defined.
Lo, sinister cages torn open; bones and blood, that from which was pried.
Every one empty with ancient shackles that no longer bind.
Only the doors stand before ye, adorned with skulls lined.
Nevermore feeling hope’s flame; only inferno born from devil’s rind.
Enter if you dare and step to the dark inside.
Something waits within, where dæmons abide.
