Let your dreams be haunting
foreshadowing a certain death
As knives clatter
you shall plummet
to the depths of Tartarus;
Where souls rest
but not peacefully.
Writhing and wailing in agony,
counting their wrongs
instead of their blessings.
Fare thee well, my friend
the Gods of the underworld are calling
a soul that’s still living.
Very soon you shall be gone
down dark hills you’ll trek
The noose is now on your neck!