By BLAINE ROCHE
Staff Writer
Scrape, scrape.
The winged stone demon lies in a crouch
Atop the Chronically Aching Tower,
Awaiting the coming dawn
Then the coming dusk.
Crack, crack.
The Tower screams thrice
And the stone demon shirks its shackles.
Claw, tooth, and horn
Plague the souls before the Tower.
Blood spills and souls are extinguished.
Scrape, Scrape.
The demon clambers onto its ledge
And resumes its crouch.
The Aching Tower screams once more.
Crack, crack.