There will come fiery showers and death from above,

And lonely life searching the sky for a dove.

And fresh air will become scarce around these parts,

And sullen moans rise deep from black hearts.

The scorched earth burns the foot to a sore,

And only the sadisitic want to suffer some more.

Has anyone ever cared for the ones below?

Where the earth is lit by an igneous glow?

Instead of being forever mourned at dawn,

The ones deep below are looked down upon.

There will come fiery showers and death from above,

And the life in Hell fits Evil like a glove.