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Beneath a foggy, moonless night,

Erzsébet held her ring so tight,

A dark red band of cursed delight,

Forged with souls lost from sight.

A mystic’s gift for youth's embrace,

It fed on lives, left no trace;

But he warned, should it misplace,

A thousand deaths would leave their trace.

Years passed, her ring and she as one,

Bound by horrors she'd begun,

But shadows loomed, her deeds undone,

And age crept in, a race she'd run.

One night, the ring was gone from view,

Her face grew gray, her strength withdrew,

Her beauty waned as whispers grew,

Her sins returned, a haunting due.

At last, a servant found the band,

Buried deep within the land;

Returned it, trembling, to her hand,

But now it tightened, a vengeful brand.

It drained her life in dark reprise,

Wrinkles carved and beauty dies;

With one last scream, her body lies,

Youth stolen back, her last disguise.

Years passed, her ring and she as one,

Bound by horrors she'd begun,

But shadows loomed, her deeds undone,

And age crept in, a race she'd run.

The castle walls hold secrets still,

The cursed ring waits in shadows chill;

And in the wind, a whispered thrill,

“Wear me… let me have my fill.”