Ousting The Bastians Of Hell Poem by Brenda Finch

Nearly gone
submerged forever
into an
abyss
of
anti-bliss

Almost grasped
by death's kiss
I struggled
to no avail

It seemed
it was over
forsaken,
lost forever

A Hand
reached through
the murk
of madness

It snatched me
right in time
for surely as hell
I was gonna die

The bastians of hell
growled, snarled
snapping
at my heels

But as they
leaped
they tasted defeat

falling
into the abyss
from whence
they came.