It’s time to unkennel the mystics
And so I tread deep into the catacomb
To amass the wealth of secrets
Lying estranged in the dungeons of a phantom.

Dare I importune the pitch silence?
Else will I remain forever in the catacomb?
Chastened by darkness and grim smell
In the grisly dungeons of a phantom.

I crusade to find the answers
Through thick and thin of a catacomb
While unadorned rattle of death
Slithers in the dungeons of a phantom.

My bravado shall become a talisman or a memento mori
Depends if I escape or die in the catacomb.
Formidable a prospect it might seem.
Yet shall I creep in the dungeons of a phantom

I hearken for a cackle from which to beware
And pace in the unkempt trails of the catacomb
Vindictive surge of breath are telltales of a monster
Lying estranged in the dungeons of a phantom.

Harrowing groans emanate nearby
Sunk in anguish they cry in the catacomb
They must be a con to lure the unwary
To unite with carcasses in the dungeons of a phantom

A one or two foundling cross my way
And vanish in the thin air of the catacomb
A brave heart I have which still tremors
Lest I walk off beam in the dungeons of a phantom

Interloper I am as formidable as the devil
Yet I don’t swagger in the lull of the catacomb
Wise as a sage and quiet as a fire
I creep in the dungeons of a phantom

At long last I find the withdrawn treasure
Guarded by a tempest in the catacomb
I embark on a ship sailed by a castaway
Sailing estranged in the dungeon of a phantom

Unflinching it takes me through the storm
Escaping the high ebbs and flows in the catacomb
At reaching the scourge of all treasures
It moors in the dungeons of a phantom

I grab the tantalizing dust of gold
And pour in the hourglass of the catacomb
And search hurriedly in the annals
Of the dungeons of a phantom

Lo! The secrets unveil and with such pugnacity
While awakening the honchos of the catacomb
As they shall have their way, regrettable so
I unearth the gifts in the dungeons of the phantom

Spoiled priests are the guardians I see
Haggard and morose in the catacomb
They attack and its time
For a face-off in the dungeons of the phantom

“You sniveling woman” is what they cry out
While I elude their strike in the catacomb
Infirm they are yet good in number
It’s the moment of truth in the dungeons of the phantom.

I flee lest I face a feminist cleansing
But not before planting napalm in the catacomb
Where I failed to find others mustn’t scavenge
In flames lie the dungeons of a phantom

At long last the regimented phantom appears
Pulling in a whiff of air above the catacomb
Astride a black stallion he floods it all
At the dungeon of an embittered phantom

His time of reckoning had arrived now
For as the gold dust fell in the hourglass of the catacomb
He had few moments to save and survive
In the dungeons of an embattled phantom

I flee while startled at such a coup
And see the shattering walls of catacomb
A mausoleum it was and so shall it be
But without dungeons and without a phantom

It’s time to unkennel the mystics
And so I tread deep into another catacomb
To amass the wealth of secrets
Lying estranged in the dungeons of a phantom