Dark 4: The Devil's Oath Poem by Ahmad M. Bassioni

Drums, Drums, from distance far
From the west near the Old Fort
Out of the old wall's ancient scar
Calling those near the port.

Come, Come, take a sip of rum
Feeling nothing, never more
Their bodies becoming numb
For the devil, you all swore.

Sold your souls to pass the gate
The Gates that Charon guard
You shall never escape your fate
This is your bloody hellish reward.

More of our ships approach in grief
You will burn like an autumnal leaf.