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The Keep
Pain from past etched in my skin,
Ghosts of past in silent din.
Screaming ache rips at my heart,
Phantom hands pull me apart.
Take those fingers from my soul,
Peer into the gaping hole,
Left behind by Satan's hosts,
When wrists were tied to wooden posts.
Darkness finally pulled me deep,
Escaped for moments from this keep
In whose dungeon I remain
With the remnants of those slain.
