only that leprous odor of the afterdeath.
The
two polar felons clash like the star detonating it one last time before the
bang.
She
takes advantage of his daze and short sightedness and throws him face first
into the
body waste and the red earth.
The queen of Hades disrupts time with her
catacomb eyes shifting her cold undecided hands and sends me to the house of
torment for a spell. Hell for short and she tells me it’s for my own good.
Thrown in like a bare knuckle pugilist done
for the night. Inside hell’s desiccated womb.
Hitting bottom face down, right there with the
hot steamy shit. Her left heel pins my neck deep in the saucy dirt so’s
I could not break free and she puts her hairy palms over my ears and listens to
my calamities ~ and she sees what I mean.
Her
eyes penetrate my soul stabbing the sky out of the blue,
shredding
it to gray as they search for the virtue that I once wore.
And
I look around once more. For old times sake.
Piles of flesh decomposing. Some whole others
not but all of them moving or slithering; trying to get to the next carcass so
they’d be up on things. A step up.
Overflowing rivers of blood refuse keep
running and the stench of it all adheres like resin to my skin it seems. Pain
and suffering echoes from all around.
Imps run and track the walls of the cavernous underworld with
something that can only be described as an evil elegance. Clawing, digging into
the rock. Breaking it off as they jump about. Taking care of malevolent things
little evil fuckers gotta take care of.
Human sacrifices are burned alive but their
skin never melts and they burn,
baby burn ~
