There was a twisted reaper named Thresh,He had a large craving for souls, not flesh.Roaming the shadows of the forest, through the night,With his lantern, emitting a sickly green light;Chain and hook in one hand, lantern in the other;He torments his souls, one after another.The Chain Wardens past lives on in tales,He tortured his victims with his cruel flail.The sadistic Jailor roamed the night,Only to be hung by his inmates’ spite;He wanders the forest for eternity,Having his souls lose their sanity.The Reaper would tease, “Come out and play.”“Flesh is a prison.” Is what he would say.