Demon lords dance under my pen as life drains from my veins. This godless purgatory seem endless, this cruel master, too much too bare. Silent screams unheeded as the innocent burn before Kali – and never her thirst quenched. How I hate this life, how I hate this place. Minutes bleed to hours and daylight dwindles to dusk. I must be one of the damned, cursed by the thirst, locked away in this coffin all the daylight hours of my existence. So curse you foul sun, be gone from the sky, I want nothing of your false light. I will endure till darkness come, and in velvet night my thirst quenched. This thought, and no other moves me to peace.