HELL

Down the stairs I never thought I’d touch,

The tenuous steps to hell.

My feet float toward the bedlam.

My body moves with the chaos.

The shades of faint shadows mesmerize me.

But my eyes plead for relief.

My fingernails scratch the matured brick walls.

My head turns slightly looking into the eyes of my companions.

Their countenance of pain makes me want to turn back,

But my desire for the agony moves me on.

There he stands, he exalts in power.

No, I can’t watch his face.

But his titanic silhouette towers over me.

The musky fumes fill my lungs.

My hate for the smell doesn’t seem to matter.

For he exhorts me to stay.

My eyes begin to tear,

Not caused by my weak frame,

But from my hellish thoughts.

I try to rationalize.

My life, or my desire.

The gist of it,

Is to retort your definitive thought.

Your biggest battle is your mind.

You repudiate every thought that seems to be the solution.

And you will never see the end of it.