~Sin~
It
drifts:
The ship that will carry
The condemned to their final place of persecution.
The ship that will carry
The condemned to their final place of persecution.
Sails
crackle with cold white flame,
Billowing
in a rage-borne wind.
The
ocean is an endless
Wave
of fire,
A
heaving spasm of pain;
A
spluttering heart
Bearing
them to their fate,
Bound
in the chains of their malice,
Crowned
with the barbs of their cruelty,
Their
mouths filled with their blood
And
their filth.
Submissive
They
will come to their end:
A
place of utter unyielding darkness,
Where
time is fragmented.
The
waste of lost lives
Tumble
in the blistering air.
Echoes
of wretchedness carry in an unrelenting squall.
Here
there is only the dark and the memories,
Only
that which they bring
Dredged
from the pit of their fears.
Only
that which they dealt
In
their monstrous lives.
Deceit.
Pain.
Perversity.
But
this place,
It is
not Hell.
For
Hell is dark and appalling splendour
Bestowed
upon those who bear the Devil’s standard.
Hell
is reward and ghastly pleasure
Lavishly
spread on the
Blackest
of souls.
This
place burns hotter still than Hell
For it
is made of Death,
And it is made of
Angels,
Angels,
Deep
Within
His heart -
- Made for
Those who sin
Those who sin
In The
Name Of
God.
God.
~

