Let no man breach the gate to this most blasphemous of halls
Lest bitterness and chaos be the harvest they wouldst reap
He must ne'er become a slave to this Child's beck and call
For she must never waken from her Crimson Sleep.
The monastery stood towering above the ruined city
It shadowed all the new emerging settlements and homes
To look down on the ruins was to sympathize and pity
All the suffering and heartache, all the graves and broken bones
For buried there a testament to the evil of a queen
A misery that spread across a weak and stricken land
The crimson birth that swamped the earth in dark and deadly dreams
And all mankind did bow beneath the power of her hand