Like Hedges of hell all fiery red,
Trim the roses black and dead.
A scream of scraping metal, poison found,
In hottest terror, flames abound.
As torcher twists upon your bones,
Your chilling sigh for not be told.
The devil dwells within its bloom,
Your dying soul, forgotten soon.
Your cries unheard in terrors brow,
The demons shriek, a haunted howl.
For depths within their womb still born,
The cycle, burns with torturous form.
The angels weep won’t save your soul,
Nor any moral written scroll.
Upon his throne, there he sits ,
Hells master, all throats are slit,
Denying righteousness he waits,
For your eternal soul in hell to take.