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The Creation of Hell
Sprouted wings then flew away.
Shot out of the sky and fallen to the ground.
Wings clipped he wanders astray.
Loosing his freedom, he awakens to see his hands bound.
Once a free being,
no longer able to fly.
Blind and blundering he runs, unsuccessfully fleeing.
With a numbing tear in his eye
he attempts to find his haven.
One by one the pieces of him fall.
Followed by the raven,
his light will soon die come nightfall.
Darkness falls and light fades.
The angel cowers for his wings have been taken.
Like the light he resembles, his heart now only degrades.
Banished from Heaven, forced to live as the forsaken.
Crawling blindly, wandering silently,
consumed by his hate for the one called God.
Grinding his teeth, he screams so violently.
On unholy soil he stands, stunned and awed.
Cast down and not welcome anymore.
Furious with anger and staggeringly empowered.
Digging with his bare hands, he creates a darkened corridor.
Sweating and enraged, a soul he saw, the soul he devoured.
Deeper and deeper, drilling into the earth,
bloodlust in his eyes, he falls to his knees.
Crying for all it's worth,
wings turned to horns, his anger he frees.
Looking around, he sees flames and smoke.
Laughing in triumph, once again free, he names his new cell.
Grinning with evil, God he intends to provoke.
Finally uttering these words, he spoke, "Fiery inferno, I name thee Hell."
With dirt staining his hands, the harvest may now begin.
The souls he will punish and release his anger upon them.
Beyond the ordinary discipline.
By judgment of God, to Hell you will go and receive no Requiem.
Suffer his wrath,
burn in the fire.
Take his anger, take his pain, look into the eyes of this psychopath,
see the flames, see his desire.
His only wish is to cause you pain.
All he craves is to hear you scream.
Within this fiery domain,
eternally in agony your soul will teem.
And so Hell now breathes.
Screaming and desperate souls it now receives.