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  • Writer's pictureRex Ignis

The Ferryman of Styx
















Depression descends like an obsidian cloud a black hole from which nothing escapes.

No happiness, hope, or lights are allowed. while stuck between realms in this nightmarish scape

Palpable sadness penetrates every space; trapping despair in a bottomless well.


A garbage filled land with no living trace. Petrified death in a permanent Hell.

Flames and skeletons are strewn all about like a puppet show made for the lost.

But with no one to watch excepting for doubt, the admission is free, but too high is the cost.

The carnival ended but the carousel spins. The Devil is dancing with Legion in tow.

Pandemonium ensues, with menacing grins, where ferrymen on the river Styx row.



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