Description
In shadows deep, where darkness looms, A curse born from unholy tombs, The scourge, a blight, a twisted dirge, A tale of woe, a mournful surge.
It creeps through lands with bony hand, An evil plague upon the land, Its touch, a venomous, vile scourge, A curse that none can fully purge.
From ancient texts, its origins shrouded, A power dark, malevolent, clouded, A force that feeds on fear and hate, A curse that seals a dreadful fate.
It whispers secrets, sows discord, Infects the hearts that once adored, The scourge, a pestilence so perverse, A torment that none can reverse.
Innocence withers, goodness fades, As the scourge's grip invades, It twists the soul, corrupts the mind, Leaving naught but pain behind.
But in the darkest hour's clutch, Hope can still arise, a crutch, For courage and love, they too converge, To combat the curse of the scourge.
With unity, we'll stand upright, Defying the scourge's blight, In unity, we'll break its curse, And from its grip, we'll disperse.
Though shadows deep, the light will surge, And we'll break free from the curse of the scourge, For in our hearts, a strength to emerge, To banish forever the curse of the scourge.