So, back to Hell

The first thing that's conscience is the pain.

Deep un-ceasing dull, within your brain.

Then you get the smell.

Horrid, gagging stomach turning

Smell of rot and rotting and 

of flesh a-burning.

Your skin is suffocating

The humidy is too high

It feels like pins and needles

You need to detoxify.

You realize that you've been here,

Time and time again.

And the fear and revulsion 

Start to creep into your brain.

You open your eyes slowly, 

You focus in the dull green light.

There's a reptilian tiny creature

Staring at you on your right.

All your sins come rushing at you

And you wish you hadn't died.

But there's no time for feeling rueful

For all the times you should have lied.

Your hand darts out quickly!

Grab the reptile!

Smash its head!

Swallow it quickly!  Swallow whole!

Yes, its Hell,

But NOT the Hell of which you've read!

You feel stronger.

Time to feed more.

Time to get out.  Time to go!

You'll get out.  Nothing stops you!

For THAT is how

God has made your soul.