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A recorded reading of “Whispers from the Abyss”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Beneath the blood-kissed sky, you rise, a wraith of bone and tangled lies, your gaze, a hollow constellation— a galaxy of haunted eyes. You wear the shadows like a crown, a monarch of the twisted void, where crimson light and darkness drown the remnants of the light destroyed. Your tendrils writhe like serpents fraught with fevered dreams that gods forgot; your stare, a chasm steeped in dread, invites the living to the dead. Each eye a portal, hungry, wide, to secrets mortals cannot hide— a thousand whispers thread the air, a choir of lost souls’ despair. The abyss has found its lover true, a face that no one dares pursue. Yet in your darkness, something pure— a grotesque beauty, dark allure. What are you, nightmare, ghost, or dream? A specter birthed from things unseen? Your presence haunts, yet fascinates, a hymn to horrors that await. So here you stand, your gaze unbound, a silence where no heartbeats sound. The vermilion mist becomes your breath, and I, transfixed, embrace your death.
Lyrics
Beneath the blood-kissed sky, you rise, A wraith of bone and tangled lies. Your gaze, a hollow constellation, A galaxy of haunted eyes. You wear the shadows like a crown, A monarch of the twisted void. Where crimson light and darkness drown, The remnants of the light destroyed. Your tendrils writhe like serpents fraught, With fevered dreams that gods forgot. Your stare, a chasm steeped in dread, Invites the living to the dead. Each eye a portal, hungry, wide, To secrets mortals cannot hide. A thousand whispers thread the air, A choir of lost souls' despair. The abyss has found its lover true, A face that no one dares pursue. Yet in your darkness, something pure— A grotesque beauty, dark allure. Your tendrils writhe like serpents fraught, With fevered dreams that gods forgot. Your stare, a chasm steeped in dread, Invites the living to the dead. What are you, nightmare, ghost, or dream? A specter birthed from things unseen? Your presence haunts, yet fascinates, a hymn to horrors that await. So here you stand, your gaze unbound, a silence where no heartbeats sound. The vermilion mist becomes your breath, and I, transfixed, embrace your death.
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