Hark, hark to the word from the high empyrean
And bring with you your teeming hordes
Bow down before the ancient’s wisdom
Snatch hope from the teeth of devouring jaws
For dark, dark is the void of the Beezlebublean
Whose rivers of horror cross bloody fords
Whose principals are cast from demon and goblin
Where screaming of terror strikes chilling chords
Bark, bark the slavering hounds of hell
While nipping your ankles and corralling your soul
In fire and brimstone lose faith in death’s knell
For no death awaits you in hell’s fiery hole
Mark, mark aged words of the wise
From their learning of grace and all that is well
Where the choice of good versus evil applies
Ne’er beckon an offering for your soul to sell
poetography.ink 