As I sit in a chamber of darkness
I hear a sound both deep and slow
like constant beating it does sound
doors are locked, arms are tied
I grow tired of this endless sound
a sound that cannot be ignored nor understood
a sharp, distinct, metallic percussion like the
stoke of a blacksmiths hammer upon an anvil;
to weather it tis near or far i do not know
but its recurrence is regular, but a slow as the
tolling of a death knell
I await each stroke with impatience and apprehension.
the intervals of silence grow progressivly longer;
the dleays are maddening with their greater infrequency
the sounds increased in strength and sharpness. My ears
are ringing. My heart is beating; will this madness ever end... All is silent. I feel the heat as the man in
black leads me and feeds my soul to the darkness

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