Abyssal Fury
In the depths of despair the abyss awakens,
its wrath unfurls as foundations are shaken.
Beneath the surface, secrets seethe,
in deep dark dens where shadows breathe.
Tumultuous tides tear at the trust,
abyssal fury, forged from the dust.
Echoes of anger etched in the deep,
where silent sorrows ceaselessly weep.
Wrath of the abyss, wild and unbound,
in the heart of darkness where fears are found.
Tidal waves of torment, truth’s demise,
in the echoes of the abyss the lost cry.
Fathoms fall into the furious night,
churning chaos cloaked in spite.
Pressure pounds upon the psyche’s door,
a relentless roar on the ocean’s floor.
Vengeful voices, venomous and vile,
siren songs that sinisterly disarm.
Here in the harrow, horrors hold sway,
in the arms of the abyss the light decays.
Rage rises, a relentless flood,
a torrent of tears, a tide of blood.
Caverns crack, creating cathartic cries,
as the abyss’s breath belies its guise.
Monstrous maws make martyrs of men,
in the watery wasteland’s wicked den.
The deep delves into the damned and the dire,
a crucible of conflict, a forge of fire.
From the abyss no mercy, no myth,
only the endless mysterious rift.
In this world where reverence rots and recedes,
the abyss whispers and the void feeds.
Fury unfettered, a force unseen,
in the depths, despair is deemed sovereign.