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A recorded reading of “Twisted Reflections”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Disjointed legs wrapped in iron thongs, a twisted dance where pain belongs. Bound and broken, they made their song, a harper’s tune of hype gone wrong. Notes of agony, strung and tight, played on bones in the dead of night. The chords they strike are raw and deep, a nightmare's lullaby that never sleeps. Iron kisses bruise and cling, silent screams the echoes bring. A harper plays, though spirits weep, lost in shadows they’ll never keep.
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