Poetry: Reflections of a Soul's Torment and Guilt
Reflections of a Soul before his, entering into the "Lake of Fire" and Everlasting Torment.
"A Limbo Before Hell"
I spied the immortal angel of death last night
I danced after him, after our fatal fight
The angel I saw was in disguise
He came to me as one of mercy, and one who was wise
As if in a dream, he came to me possessing the image of
Your elegant self, he came bearing gifts and kisses
With tears of remission, “ah but, him come too late”
For I was already stone cold, and turned immortal
And you were on your way, as always slow as the turtle
I awoke lost in the darkness, strung unto the greasy beam
It was set high and above a sea of moaning faces; oh how they gleamed
A dimly lit star was the only thing set above me
The beam on fire, tossing, and turning
Facing the faces that were moaning
I was strung upon it like that Jesus guy
Like he on his cross was, I
But, mine was a single board
Cut from deadwood a cord
That is continually singing down
Arms wide and feet dangling down
I was wearing a crown
My, own crown
Suspended over the oceans of sorrowing, souring faces
Souls dressed up and upwardly facing
I was set a fire and proclaiming no guilt as I spoke
But yet, I was not consumed, just pained and poked
The pain only weakened by the faces below
As each one proclaimed his history of woes
They revealed the unjust hurts, that they received
At the hands of their lovers, and this world of ours we all so believed
Now bathing in their and mine; our own proclamations, which only adds to our sting
We volley continuously for placement upon this beam
I have held this spot, upon this altar as long as I can remember
For now, it is all I can remember
As I am pushed to the floor, these oceans roar
As they rock and they roll; they all pull me under
For now my lover, she soars onto the beam
And then when there, I alone return unto the ocean’s floor demeaned
A thought by Sinbad the Sailor Man
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