Out of the shadows
 Comes a dread figure
 Of writhing darkness
 And metallic light

 Medusa is she
 That holds you in thrawl
 And leads you to places
 Where broken men crawl

 They cry out their warnings
 Escape while you can
 But you cannot resist her
 Or counter demands

 She whispers so sweetly
 And dread cold seeps in
 You become hers forever
 To see shadows win.

October 23, 2002

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