The kings-turned-gods and their primordial ancestors
Only know what lurks inside that lair
Within the phantasmagorical walls
Depicting stucco monsters and devils
In ominous colors above the fire sconces
But behind every painting, inside every pipe,
And through every museum-like mock-up
Where entire worlds are contained within
Where the Dunsanian and the Lewisian collide
There be monsters strange and grotesque
Which thrive within every object-biosphere.
These worlds vary based on the villain\’s foul designs
Whether as a bleak never-ending ocean
With a wide-reaching archipelago
Of piracy, villainy, and giant crustacean;
Or as an unforgivably hot lava world
Which situates beneath an overbearing volcano
And a sky red with the blood of war gods;
Or as an Alighierian hell-circle
Of eternal anguish among dead trees
That hang sorrow and burning fruit upon their branches.
Our heroes must brave these realms
To find the world-keys locked within
The chests or the creatures\’ insides
In order to progress within the lair.
However, subversives who hate the villain
Will assist our heroes as companions
Since they know more about the lair
And its maze-corridors and traps.
When our heroes, who hail from
Many colors, nations, cultures, legends, and myths
Reach the very top of the lair
Betwixt the clouds and outer space
They slay the villain of many forms
Piggish, wolfish, hyena-ish, devilish
Who played them as gladiators
For his own playing-as-god pleasure
They rescue their kidnapped loved ones
Who knows how many wives, mothers, daughters,
And beloveds of those heroes brave and strong
Constitute the villain\’s dungeons
To motivate them to confront him
What unfeeling gods would order him
To engage in such an unholy conflict
With our heroes of young and old?