Posted by
Matthew McCluskey on Monday, August 06, 2007 1:58:04 PM
In hell, the skies are blue as here,
while the gardens, green and green.
The air is crisp, and cool, and clear,
and no smoke is ever seen.
In hell, no demon eats of meat,
of cow, or of fish, or deer,
though each is known to lust to eat,
the rind of children’s ears.
In hell, men grow old and round,
and tire from the lust and mirth.
They live and pass without a sound,
and leave nothing on hell’s earth.
In hell, each dog evokes a smile -
while in fields the cowbells ring,
and pets dance a mad, and wild,
to the sound of children’s screams.
Near hell, there rests an aged sign -
with words I know, now, too well:
“No children past this line.
You’ve found the road to hell.”