And so go you, jovial heathens from hell

Lay your seige upon this world

Better now than leaving us to rot in this inferno of our own rendition

While remnants of the past breed unrealisitic toxicity

Of the glory and pretenses in which we once toiled

These ruminations are naught

For we have descended beyond the etheral grasp of salvation

We encounter instead, stripped of mendacious facades

Your inviting and seductive caress

Ushering us through the foreboding doors of damnation

In which just perhaps, we may finally console with peace

Oh how ironic to ponder! The sardonic roles

Of the hands or heaven and those of hell

As they reach to capture the plebians of our realm

For the hellish hand ascends in an almost heavenly path toward our throats, 

While angelic grasps descend in morbid tranquility on a trajectory to perdition

But alas! No matter how one fantasizes the workings of these two clairvoyant realms, 

There is no escaping our direction of demise

So come! Fear not dawdle!

Take us, doing swiftly so before the mere realization of our wrongs

Suffocate and forsake us the last breath of our lungs

Grant this mercy, dark saviors from below

And with open arms we shall soon meet your warm embrace.