Go to hell was banished a living man again,
He looked down, depth and abyss,
Scared as he was in his heart and hand,
Hell he knew burned like death.
At the gates he saw swathe of devil’s guards,
And a burning fire churning all souls,
Going in he could see no more,
Magma, hot out pouring on the surface.
As he walked in din and chaos like the city he lived,
Shouts and cries, pain and agony,
Did he now know them all ?
Walking past he could see.
What ? Are they poets, oh noble souls of hell,
Keats, Tennyson, Shelly, and lovers unknown,
Sitting with coffee in their hands and smoking cheroots,
Poets guild biding their time.
Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf hands on their heads,
Scribbling on the ground of fire,
Letters burning like a hundred thousand suns,
Cigarette smokes around in air like hues.
Black angel why did they make this place ?
To banish all who did not grow old,
For years may roll, but their souls,
Lead mortals into our own place.
Ah there comes Lucifer the master of deceit,
The beholder of vanity the non existent fore,
Welcome dear for this is hell,
Of poets and lovers and letters unknown.
We serve coffee, cigarettes and Tennessee whiskey for sure,
To eat we had nothing but why shall you need it anyway,
For why do they call it hell ?
To burn in longing away form the world.
Why the poets ? What wrong did they do ?
They loved real, a mortal, not the divine,
They have been left here to wither in time,
While their lovers shall sit in the Elysian lawns of nectar and pleasantries.
What is their deed with you fallen angel ?
No deed, do you think I would heed ? came his reply swift.
They will lie here till they reconcile,
That love a mortal and you shall lie here in hell.
Love the divine and grace shall rise,
For beautiful as hell looks, it sure is hell,
And heaven is what they strive for,
Look at his dress, ah is that Shakespeare ?
No my dear, that is a company for you.