Found Poetry by Vison

The paths of the Dead

The whispering darkness, there was no answer.
Utter silence, more dreadful than whispers.
Hours of horror, crawling like a beast;
Endure in madness the following fear.

Water falling into a dream of dark shadow,
Sheer cliffs against the dark sky.
Deep and narrow the chasm,
Twilight in some other world.
- Vison