Maze

Entrance to the deathly maze,
A gate of bronze and steel,
Delirious, hysteric craze,
Of which the mind can't heal.

A hellhound pack bring up the rear,
A murder swoop en high,
Attracted by the lustful fear,
Preluding dark, the nigh.

The legs move fast, upon the ground,
The shadows watch, intent,
They hang on every single sound,
Their thoughts are cruel and bent.

The wolves, they stalk, beyond the hill,
Their eyes are bloodshot gems,
They wait, in silence, for the kill,
From which their power stems.

The feet move faster, yet stand, stone,
The eyes dart, vision, blurred by terror,
Isolated, stalked, alone,
The sky reads as a scripted mirror.

Branches snap, no sound could mask it,
Bones on twigs, smeared ash, bound flesh,
Jade planks of ice, a frosted casket,
Wrists, bound, bloodied by sharp mesh.

Ever faster, sparks of power,
Burning spirit, doused and snuffed,
Within the ashes, flaming shower,
Never resting, naught enough.

A blazing vixen, wake of dark lust,
Necromancer, Mage of death,
Cries, all ash to ash, all dust to dust,
Through a terror crafted breath.