The Black Stone

Deep in the heart of the hell's dominion,
where the sky is torn,
swallowing flames into an endless void
where the earth has worn,
eaten by the inferno below
seething winds ravage this furnace,
home to the infernal king of shadows.

Step forth into oblivion
to take what is needed.
A duty charged to the demon king.
Who waits in the past before his fall,
the black stone caressing his throne.
Time is irrelevant to the god of evil
yet, his future remains unknown.

For the test of strength a challenge was asked.
The unsanctioned visit for a damnable cause,
without power to uphold resolution is paused.
This responsibility is earned.

Now deemed worthy, you ride far.
Far from these wretched arid wastelands,
the furnace of damnation.
Back through the tree of death,
to well of souls.

And the black hole sun
has devoured the present
into nothingness.