Tyrants bathe in the blood of their victims
Flesh melts away, boiling, searing
Retribution for the lives stolen
Means that the powerful become powerless
Burning skin, cooking fat
Smoke rises and clogs my senses
Overwhelming, stiflingly strong
The harsh taste of blood on my tongue
Approaching the center, I dare to enter
The dead forest, where the harpies feast
Tormented faces etched into the wood,
They suffer in death as they did in life
Branches torn from these temporary bodies
Only to regenerate, the cycle restarts
The bird with a cruel woman's face
Warily traces my footsteps
The trees grow stunted and gnarled
I make my way past the forest's heart
The gravel and sludge give way to sand
That scorches as if it has touched the sun
Flakes of fire fall from the sky
Sparks and embers drifting on jagged gusts
The snowfall of hell, the rain of this circle
Ash dusts these barren lands
The desert crawls with twisting bodies
Driven insane by the heat and desolation
Stretched out on the sand, sprinting forever
Whatever the action, there is no end
There is no end