Had an image in my head about the mythical river of the dead.
The River Styx
Darkness, further forward than they’d ever gone: the whistling man’s skeleton.
Cold moonlight filtering through blood-pale arms: the executioner’s prize.
Stolen words dancing without a breath: the blind man’s fate.
River boiling bile: the dead man’s walk.
Tortured souls rising from the abyss: a slaughtered soldier’s last rites.
Dragon-fire pulling viscous midnight: the ferry-man’s toll.
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