Slithering essence swirling around him
Drawing him closer with disorientation
Going this way and that he follows it through the maze
Until the sharpness of pain sends him into a daze.

A swirling vision of future events over comes him
Drawing him into some strange land.
Fear, anxiety, corruption fills his soul
As a shadowy figure follows him and an unseen clock tools.

He’s on the ground now, the figure looming over him
His ashen face contorts as the pain freely flows inside of him
A whisper of desperation and the figure does as he is told
Our hero lays stiff and unblinking, alone and cold.

He awakes with a fright in a dazzling emerald room
He lays there thinking of what transpired and his impending doom.