Even The Damned Are Damned
Pinhead, once feared and revered
A power beyond measure
But now, his form wanes and seared
Aged, withered, without treasure.
A shadow of his former self
His army, now dispersed and drawn
His reign, now on a shelf
He wanders, an outcast, all alone
A relic of a bygone age
His kingdom, now a dusty stone
His purpose, a forgotten page
His Cenobites, now scattered wide
His lamented tale, now still
His universe, a realm denied
His future, unfulfilled

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