Pale shines the moon above me It lights my way through the desert night How much further do I have to wander? How much more must I sacrifice? Mentioned only by the mad one The nameless city - shunned by all What awaits I can't imagine In my thoughts the poet's words I recall: "That is not dead which can eternal lie And through strange aeons even d**h may die..." The wind... Unspeakable... so cold... so cold...
A presence... in the dark... the wind... it tears my soul Behind the walls... Underneath the towers... Of this cursed city... the horror I faced... Beyond belief... I stared into the abyss... The Labyrinth... The tombs of gla**... Twisted and grotesque... the demonic corpses. They looked at me... with empty eyes... And I swear... And I swear... I saw them move. The mad poet... His words... "That is not dead..."