Realm of The Crimson King

short horror poem about hell

Beyond the earthly plains

Where scarce life remains

The flora withers, dried up and dead

The rivers flow a dark blood red

In forever darkened skies, the vultures sing

In the realm of the Crimson King

Tread cautiously, lest you end up a corpse

Expect nary a hint of sorrow

For this is a land of no remorse

To escape is a tale seldom told

To seek a way out is to venture an endless road

If you happen to find rust stained castle walls

The time is nigh, your soul will fall

The vultures will cease their songs and descend

And feast upon the newly deceased flesh of men

When nothing remains they will again take wing

An ode to the dead they will once again sing

Forever in the realm of the Crimson King