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Dipanjan Bhattacharjee

Horror Tragedy

3  

Dipanjan Bhattacharjee

Horror Tragedy

STYGIAN CAVES (CHANT ROYAL)

STYGIAN CAVES (CHANT ROYAL)

2 mins
245


Forlorn nights descend upon Stygian caves,

Culminating in obscene hours of death.

Lathering captives as deterrent slaves,

According to them just a few ounces of breath.

Sinister souls from dire winds of the night,

Coerce tears of a forever odious plight.

Slaves of eternity entrapped for days,

Implore Eleos for effulgent ways.

Voice of agony quiver in disdain,

Years of thraldom; years of vehement sways,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


Sulky caves spell aghast o'er yearning slaves,

Arid veins sans blood; seek for one last breath.

Delving each day into aphotic graves;

They cherish within the cold arms of death.

Nonchalant of the nymphs of sublime light,

They gasp within crimps of macabre night. 

Once in a while, aurora might spell ways,

To rescue captives from these abject days.

Baneful souls from grim dungeons inflict pain,

And pour hemlock as spiteful drops of rain.

Briary skin and a truly grisly face,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


They're trammelled within the dark world of knaves,

And are embellished with setaceous wreaths.

Perpetual anguish linger through the caves,

Unveiling tales of thousand crumbled faiths.

Deep into the abyss of blind insight,

Brook of bleakness reigns as a hungry knight.

Submerged slaves return as moribund preys,

To unveil the tales of despairing days.

Their carcasses float as trivial grains,

Drenched in drizzles of noxious drops of rains.

Broken dreams and rattling desolate bays,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


A fountain of blood is what the fiend craves,

Until on earth Eirene's chariot returneth.

His glow empyreal shall illume the caves,

And surcease the vicious game of death.

Morbid slaves too dream of a halcyon flight,

To fly through skies as a nacreous kite.

Beyond the realms of nefarious clays,

Into the world of splendiferous days.

Miles away from caverns of ill insane,

Where no malign souls through appealing say,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


For; years of torment echoing the caves,

Must now surrender to the nymphs of faith. 

Craters of vengeance with burnt bones of braves,

Cocooned by an insidious world of wraiths,

Shall be smothered forever in His light,

With elixirs of divine insight.

Armies of motherlands entrapped for days,

As wounded protagonists of His plays.

Shall now breathe in open zephyrs and rains.

No spectral souls ever in caustic ways,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


Stygian caves shall no more litter ways,

Spreading terror o'er happy human days.

Eirene's castle shall reign the world; too sane, 

And no demon in such a macabre place,

Proffer them an afflictive life of pain.


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