Hell is like being stuck in a never-ending maze of darkness and torment
In the abyss where shadows dwell,
Where silence reigns, and whispers swell,
A realm of fire, despair, and dread,
The haunted echoes of souls long dead.
Demons dance with twisted glee,
Their laughter rings through eternity,
Clad in shadows, with eyes aglow,
They weave a tale of woe and woe.
The darkness was thick, like a velvet shroud,
Engulfs the brave, surpasses the loud,
A chilling grip, like a lover’s snare,
It calls to the lost, with a silent prayer.
Beneath the thrones of ash and stone,
Echoes of anguish, a mournful tone,
Every flicker of hope snuffed out,
In the grip of fear, they twist and rout.
Yet, in this realm of night’s embrace,
Where light flickers and dreams erase,
A whisper stirs within the pain—
That even in hell, love can remain.
So let the demons play their part,
And let the darkness claim the heart,
For in every shadow, a spark may gleam,
A flicker of hope in the depths of the dream.