Desolated Spirits

There is a lake in distant Zan
Beyond the unwanted haunts of man
Walks alone in hideous state
A spirit dead and desolate

A spirit ancient and unholy
Heavy with fearsome melancholy
In that lake

Which from the waters dull and dense
Draws vapours curst with pestilence

Around the banks, a mire of clay
Sprawl things offensive in decay

And curious birds that reach that shore
Are seen by mortals nevermore