The Second Circle of Hell

Through aptitudes of men,
so we are affronted to challenge
one another,to begin what had been
commerced centuries back,
they who are ill-born,vile in
behavior and social demeanor
they who gird us with wrath as
blood effuse from our skin
they whom souls purge through
the craft of modern design

Swooned by death was I
yet my temptress found another
a solemn rage girded her well
as gray as death was she
elegantly besought with age
we all revere her for her beauty
though at accost to pay
our skins, they are dampened
with blood, is it true my beloved?
Hast this meager day, deemed
my wealthy body impoverished?
Have we become the darkened
wood that so casts a shadow so malign?
for like fine wine, she endures the tempests
of time. I was then detained by ravenous beasts
by far more potent than the abyss hither.
For they thus in dwelling upon my Achilles heel,
my weakness was their shone in grace
hell was like a fresh coat, laced with the modern and recent
woes of men, a place that manipulated the fear that very thought impended.
There they standeth horribly and snarl; examining my fallacies, one after the other.
At no time at all, they were obliged to contend their cruel whips upon my delicate skin and one, two, three beatings did I receive. For I had descended upon my knees, as to kneel before these piteous creatures, malevolent did they take toward my allies, and eternal toward my aging adversaries. “O spirit courteous of Mantua, Of whom the fame still in the world endures,And shall endure, long-lasting as the world;
A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, Upon the desert slope is so impeded
Upon his way, that he has turned through terror, And may, I fear, already be so lost, That I too late have risen to his succour, From that which I have heard of him in Heaven.” For such words had been said by the writer greatest, Dante Alighieri, may his grace and elegance outline the dreary vicinity that is hell and the hounds that which it presides. Residence to a bitter hope, my eternal rests beneath these carved stone steps, how dreadful, that I a man of few words could say so much in a limited quantity of time, cheers for the hour of time has risen, risen with Christ it did, no more will I forbear the snap of savage batter and good or ill my obstructions, current obstructions nay precede me again for he is one to hold me in his bosom and caress me like I was his gentle lamb.

The Second Circle of Hell


Joined November 2007

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Hell is a place, a location of anonymous speculations, of infinite torture and crude and self-deserved punishment. Thus deeming it the worst situation in all of matter and history.

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