29 April 2012
Saphros mountain.
Twisted faeries. Clouds that obscure are always painted.
Brimstone cold and clouds so warm,
Adventurers roam to Saphros' tain,
Swept away by twisted fey,
To a lair of hollow-eyed Gaol.
Daubed in green, damned silk robes,
Crowned in gold, silver eyes,
Twinkling skin on amber skies,
None the three were left alive,
Sit do they on ivory thrones,
Pleasure filled with hollow souls,
Black eyes be to ceiling turned,
On mouths agape sits frozen hurt,
Beware the cursed in Saphros' tomb,
For bring about will they your doom.
The Changeling • Opuss № I