The First Gate

Across this land of stenching souls,

I passed with no regret…

Cometh I, before the First Gate, seeking no redemption,

For I have forsaken my place amongst the Gods;

I need no joy, content, no confirmation of my soul’s salvation.

I want to feel, to suffer, to be alive past Death!

The mask of heaven skillfully placed upon its rotting carcas

Tricked me not, into accepting a soul with no worries.

How could it provide such happiness to mere people, alas,

To my putrid soul and thought, that craved it all but fairies?

Wide smiles on their face, devolving mercy, praising pity,

Kind eyes, with no flames, not even sparks to light the kiln;

Painted eye of stained, darkened glass – gazing on a world so shitty,

I beg of thee, begone the lock, mark the gate open – let me enjoy my sadness


I ask for nothing in return, no mercy, no forgiveness, no salvation;

I want to live my life in Hell – and my tiny soul not forgotten.

I do not wish to merge with the jolly souls of heaven, no absolution.

A weak resolve to this life, forgotten by the Gods, all broken.

Heaven’s gardens had no sway over my mind – could tell a lie, I.

Have seen the plants that feast on former mortals – for eternity.

I’d rather spend it in regret and pain and sorrow – a far cry!

A smiling soul is much more wretched than one in torment – fearfully.

So let me be, open thy gate, let me rejoice in Hell – for ever,

Let me remember how my heart stung was  by god’s greatest creation;

Don’t let me fall, down there, up in Their heaven – never!

Open thy gate! Let me have my feet burned by the flames of damnation!

And thus the gate was open,

For my glorious fall to Gehenna

– to proceed.

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