No pain, nor regret, nor judgment, nor sanity exist.
No mediation, nor torment be held in purgatory.
Be it not the owl that watches you struggle,
but the beast behind the Gates of Hell, savage and gory.

Down below doth wretched bodies hang,
that burn and twist upon a flame.
Hither a path lie direct to the stairs of Heaven,
ascend while hearing the scowl of those who God they blame.

Chains shake and clatter on demons below,
unearthly screeches my ears doth hear.
The devil signals me to fall from the stair,
to the fiery pit I so very fear.

So many things I have not done,
though the devil's temptaicious hand draws me close.
Though I resist his offer, and this I say,
"The Day I Join Thee Is When Flames Have Froze!"