The Devil's Land

Travels led to distant path,
Surrounded by the devil's wrath,
A lonesome road of nightly gales,
On which sunshine had set sail,
Leaving only gloom and despair,
With fear hanging in the air.

Traversing further down the route,
My thoughts cloud themselves with doubt,
As shadows trail my every move,
Upon the rocks in every groove,
Whispered voices soon begin,
Enticing thoughts of evil sin,
Which lead me further down my track,
Towards a distant wall of black,
Illusions made by lack of light,
Placing darkness within my sight.

The wall fades as I draw near,
And once again my path is clear,
Ahead lies a ravaged land,
Marked by the devil's brand,
Dust, decay and death abound,
Flesh and bone found all around,
Sheets of white from haunted past,
Greet me as I arrive aghast,
Shrouded forms that wail and moan,
Ghouls and ghosts before me shown,
Passing by most melancholy,
Friends turned foes of most unholy,
Far from heaven and it's hand,
In this ravaged devil's land.

Thus my journey meets its end,
My mind is broken and shall not mend,
Upon the shores of the Reaper's seas,
Amidst the burnt down dying trees,
A place of death and hellish sights,
Found far below the lowest heights,
Where souls and damned pass on in pain,
Tormented on this nightmare plain,
By voices that refuse to cease,
Who whisper to me, 'Rest in peace.'