My Life · Writing

Modern Hell

I found this poem on my portable hard drive in a file with documents from high school. It was dated November 9, 2009, which would have been the first semester of my senior year.  I don’t remember the exact assignment, but I do know it’s “Dante” themed. I’m assuming the assignment was something along the lines of Use Dante’s style to describe a modern version of Hell. And here was the result:

Modern Hell
(11-9-2009)

Part 1

For every generation brings a new dimension
A new path to be formed
Adding on an extension

Afterlife resides a dorm
Not imaginable to the living
Only those deceased, can see in form.

Where thy sinners go there is no giving
Only torture shall they receive
With no chance of forgiveness

They shall spend their hours grieving
Wailing, crying, while enduring brutal Hell
One who must witness such would be in disbelief.

For they shall only be able to tell
Their sins and mighty pain
That forced them to this mighty dark firing well

I who am to witness this drain
And record all I can bare
Will lead you through this painful lane

Alone I cannot go to dare.
For I must be accompanied by one who knows the way
He who guided the one who wrote in this style shall share

Down to the land of wretched souls we sway,
The land of which nobody would want to desire
Along with surrounds so brutal and gray.

Those first whom I see seem so tired.
As if in one never ending nightmare
Never being able to retire

I recognized a familiar pair.
Those whom we would refer to as kings
Eyes twitching rapidly far from royalty and care

Unable to awake from their nightmares to sing
These men, once great, sleep forever on
Being terrorized by their dreams of stings

If only I could speak to these fawn.
For they died so young
And have been missed so long

They could not speak among
The Kings of Pop and Rock lay in never ending terror
Enduring their punishments for unnatural juice down their tongue

Since nobody could speak in this naked land of error
We descended further into this land of unholy terror

Part 2

We came to a river of pure slime.
Flies and mosquitoes swarming around
And toads jumping out from underneath the grime

A small boat was parked in the ground.
This seemed our only way over.
Eerily, I stepped in trying to feel safe and sound.

Easier said than done, I felt like a rover
I closed my eyes waiting for the end of this journey to the other side
In this living Hell there was no sign of a clover.

As I began to see the new branch of sinners, I wanted to hide.
A pain lurched in my gut.
Their sufferings made me feel sorry for their side.

Men and women were walking around disorientated and cut
Blind, and hopeless—any hope was nowhere
And at random monster dogs would attack and chew on their butts.

For these are the parents whom abused and abandoned their heir
Leaving them lost and lonely in the world
Those poor children who had no prayer

Their bodies curled and swirled
As the monsters would attack and eat at their insides
It made one want to hurl

My stomach could not endure this aside
I begged and pleaded that we move forward
In such, we proceeded on my ride.

Approaching a narrow staircase, we descended downward.
Already feeling weak, I saw the next shore.

Part 3

This next bunch I felt great anger at
They were hacking with no end
Coughing as if in their throat they had a rat

These cruel, wicked creatures were no friends.
They had no lives
For they were in others’ lives each day they spend

Now they must live in hives
Where the bees and flowers swarm
Allergic they have become and they cannot thrive.

Hacking up blood in their form
A waste on Earth they were
Only to ruin those others born

Blood was spurting from all their mouths in burn
They were walking around spitting on each other.
Obviously there is nothing they have learned

These men were not brothers
My stomach lurching as they stood not from me
I felt sorry for their mothers.

My mind started to wander, how I desired to be free
And I began to feel ill, as if I too was becoming ill
I wanted out of this spree

This was too much for me to fill.
It was all downhill from here
No longer did I have the will

Everything started to become unclear
Fog started to hover over my eyes
As if I too had started to disappear.

All was dark and wry.
No longer could I hear a cry

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