Where I reside,
We live on one side.
Where all is not,
And faith is forgot.
It is called the Dungeon.
Where inside beware,
Your entrance I dare.
Where hope is abandoned,
Our lives with little sanction.
It is called the Dungeon.
Where the Keymaster, our King,
Rules our asylum, each being.
And rests in his hands,
Our lives and our lands,
It is called the Dungeon.
Where The Dragon is a neighbor,
Our protector and savior.
Where the Phantom's a warning,
Of things forth coming.
It is called the Dungeon.
So to all ye admitted,
And to those unfitted,
This is a warning of the future, to come.
This is where we dwell,
To outlanders: Not the Well.
It is called the Dungeon.
Jul Davis
11-20-1996
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