Facing Evil

Dreaded of cold times inches of shivers pain,
pressed into the evils of grown lions surrounding mane,
spearing ice pointed down into the surface so cold,
the rock crumbles away from the original mold,
flames blackened the golden hands held tight,
as if they gripped the essence of burning light,
adventure in the fogs undisturbed for years,
into the depths of tombs echoes of fears,
a place to forget those memories a must,
time has taken its toll and turned to dust,
melted away from the shells of artistic gaze,
lost among the corners of the endless maze,
taking inside the torments when faced,
why does evil leave when one is evil embraced.