Devil's Dance Poem by John Castro

Weeping voices in a place of rot.
A place of stench where the wormd dieth not.

Billowing smoke and banshees scream.
Soon to realize its not a dream.

The devils dungeon the great abyss.
The whispering voices the serpent's hiss.

Coals of fire and cauldrens too.
All deception and nothing true.

A place of limbo and great contempt.
For all eternity where time is spent.

The eternal furnace where flesh is burned.
Where love is absent and hatred's earned.

Metal shoes singed with heat.
To be strapped upon your feet.

You talked the talk now dance the dance.
For your transgressions have been enhanced.