In the twilight of eternal dusk, so cold and vast

Where the night stretches mercilessly, shadows cast

Wanders Conan the barbarian on a path so dire

Lost in the storm of a cruel fate, ensnared by fire

Shadows lengthen, dark serpents glide

Echoes of the past are screams that cannot hide

In the vortex of a destiny wrapped in anguish tight

The steel of his blade mirrors terror’s fright

Amid the ruins of dreams and sepulchral cries

He treads with heavy steps and bloodshot eyes

Defying gods and fatal forces in his quest

Where whispers of the wind are cries from the abyss

The castle of souls, in torment’s grim embrace

Rises like a specter, distant and out of place

And Conan, with his strength and ruthless stance

Moves through corridors where fear’s a dark romance

In his hands, the steel that rends the veil of night

In his eyes, a blaze of fury burning bright

In battle, he seeks the end of the endless scourge

But fate, relentless, sets its cruel surge

O Conan, hero of blood-soaked, shadowed days

Your deeds, as dark as the abyss’s maze

Are echoes faint in a world so dim and cold

Where life’s a shadow and death’s a beast, uncontrolled

Thus, in his eternal wander, he persists

Through dreams and nightmares, where horror twists

The barbarian’s soul never fades or surrenders

For in the heart of darkness, he remains, the eternal defender