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 death 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 glass...

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..."