Ascending to the second layer,
a stench of nauseating breath
expands across the zephyr.

I attempt to avoid a cough
and the opaque fog thickens
as we reach an abrupt drop-off.

Depicted below are frantic beings
who have only the remembrance of
anxiety, torment, and panicked feelings

hiding amongst the remaining rubble
in a soft whisper they beg for mercy,
neglecting against their fatal,

violent destruction on the vitality of the innocent.
The scent swells to an intense sickening
along with the dryness of incalescence.

A low growl begins to rise!
Traveling across the infinite distance,
a foul creature comes to brutalize.

The petrified beings cower in their hideouts
and I hold my breath carefully as
three giant, damp, and cold snouts

emerge from the heavy smog.
A rush of frigid wind washes over
and I come to realize, it is the Watchdog.

One risks a dangerous error
in the act of running to the void, but
the motion distracts the devious hunter.

He strikes and pins the immoral,
viciously tearing the flesh to pieces.
Finally, taking him in the muzzle

Cerberus violently tosses the limp body
for it no longer contains value nor interest.
And I ask my Lover very faintly:

“What becomes of the one enduring torture?”
And he, nonchalantly: “Don’t worry, my dearest.
They have yet to regain their composure.”

As we escape from the horror below
to the unknown exceeding cruel,
the dying mortal begins to regrow.

Upon entering the vast crystal dome
we venture through the endless
that such vile creatures call home.

Before me, occurring a ghastly sight
of those cursed to these depths
are confined to the blackest night.

Embedded into the surrounding walls,
irregularity complicates the network
when one wanders the immortal halls

of a timeless place that captures its victims
to intensify the thoughts inside their head,
eluding the state of true mortem.

With heavy rope held agonizingly tense
woven within their eyes and mouth
blocking all intellection of the sense,

the creatures meander aimlessly forevermore
nervous and cautious of their movements,
bloodied and grimy from the soot-ridden floor.

I question my Lover out of curiosity:
“Why must these souls dwell in a daunting
labyrinth without physical perceptivity?”

And the Lover addressed sweetly: “My one and only,
Greed is a moral infection of the human mind,
be wary of the heart and the desire Lustfully.”

He then turned, and I followed him through
up to a Beast whom I would not dare test
for he validates the lack of your virtues.

Awoken in a wood of dark and eerie
I find myself alone and lost with
an arising feeling of anxiety

amidst the ash in the thick air
that leaves a sour and bitter taste,
filling my lungs with despair.

The sudden unbearable heat
from the lifeless forest around me
pulses like a heartbeat.

As I walk beneath the scorched and rotten
to discover my Lover isolated before me
in a world where I am forgotten.

Dolan, my Dearest, effortlessly strides
towards the distraught, roaming soul
and with a saddened lack of pride

he speaks to me calmly and awaits
for the precise explanation as to
“Why have you strayed from our fate?”

Despite the uncomfortable torridity
I manage to utter a sentence or two:
“I do not wish to trouble thee!

You see, for I have no recollection
of where I could possibly envision,
for us, the proper direction.”

My guide then willfully took my hand
leading me to a massive, clear sphere in which
controls the eternity of the ******.