Styx of the Frozen Waste.

Pride Ed

Awaken this fire of the coldest hell;
Dammed and draining of souls to quell
The ravenous darkness of this abysmal sleep.
None here protected; just souls to reap!
Adrift in this river of frozen blood;
Her corrosive veins wandered though crimson flood!
Hell hath her cruelty; such violence and wrath
Floating along this slippery path!
Then came her hushed whispers from the depths of the frost;
Her hungry tongue danced as it licked at the lost:

“Hell coarsen though veins 
‘Neath the frozen waste,
Awash with the pain;
A thirst with great haste!  
Molten and chilled;
Bodies defiled,
Like rain through a still,
Blood taste so mild!”

Then his majesty of silence
Came unto her.
Inquired her guidance;
Hath fury galore:

“Ye who spills Lethe and flows unto death,
Lend mine cause with hurried breath!
The frenzied old moon of the ire-filled depths;
Cold luster heaving as burning souls wept!
Mine dear sister, thy fury I implore;
Wear down old spirits whose life I want more!”

Her frightful waters haughtily screamed:
“Beloved Charon, thy mote it be!
As long as thee gives the first death to me!”