Streets inundated with silence,

Walkway's rosy of blood,

Corpses lay grim decour, 

Among them army of hell flood.

Later arrives a champion,

With bravery and might,

Double barrel in hand,

Ready for intense gory fight.  

Possessed soldiers explode in groups,

Pinkies protruding holes,

Imps fall in painful groan, 

On quick smoke disappear lost souls.

Way behind them in the darkness,

Tall skinny creature locks 

Its eyes on hell's corpses.

With fiery hands, the healer stalks.

*Author's Note: This is a poem inspired by Doom 2 and it's title is based on one of the tracks that is used in maps 02, 11 and 17. (11 is the one where the titular ''healer'' or otherwise known as the ''archvile'' is introduced)*