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All of these monstrosities

Mirror verse of ourselves

Meshing with this version of Hell

Splashing on tomes all the blood

The Duke of Death, the Priest of Gnax

Lives lost to spectral forces or not, they all end up as pawns

Suffice it to say, we've lost

Then wings of diamond formations appear through smoke

As Millius appears, I stagger, trying to break my posture

Looking at my partner, his gaze fixated on the creature, we talk

Morphing into something, tethered to the nightmare, we become nothing

The musings of the madman proved to come at a cost as we lost ourselves in its eyes

Warping us out of this dimension and into one we have no past of

Our structure is broken down into form. Form. Form. Form