Through Belgorg’s maw — the tunnel weeps light, A faint ember flickers at the end of blight. Hope’s trembling spark claws through decay, Exoskeletal bones birth flesh from clay. Mirrors of diamond bleed in sunlight’s lash, Reflections glisten — sanctified ash. Descent through Hades’ trembling veins, Whispers crawl beneath my chains. Yin and Yang — a stitched communion, Thread of death entwined in union. Serpents of roses, crimson and cold, Slither through earth’s skin — stories untold. The rain descends — a funeral hymn, Warmth devours the shadow’s limb. A rainbow arches — fragile, divine, Mocking the dead who once sought sign. The feral beast lies declawed, undone, Feasting upon its wounds — the chosen one. The scentless irony haunts the air, Where flesh was torn, no pain to bear. Through shattered glass the monster peers, Its seams sewn tight by ghostly seers. Each fracture whispers — none are pure, Yet through corruption — I endure.