I think I’m losing my grip again,
and I thought I was doing so well,
but this morning I spoke with a shadow
who had recently returned from hell.
Apparently hell is completely empty,
with neither night or day.
No sky above or ground below;
there’s nothing, but a mist of grey.
No fiery flames to burn or blister
no torment, or torturous pain.
No one to shout or to complain to
and no one who you can blame.
No one to explain your situation,
or to condemn you for doing wrong.
No contact from the evil powers,
or any sweet angelic song.
In another life he was far from perfect
and maybe he had to pay,
but several life times in nothingness
was the cause of his dark side today.
by Orlando Belo
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