There he falls to his knees
Stung by a thousand bees
Close to his dying wife
Slowly draining of life

“No! This cannot take place!
Right here in my embrace,
My beloved soon dead!
Oh Lord, take me instead!”

“Cease all the liquid flow
And shine thy holy glow
Gently upon her spirit
She’s almost at her limit!”

From out of smoke and fire
Appears a spectre liar
To bring a twisted deal
That only blood may seal

“But what explains thy presence!?
To carry out her sentence!?
Wert thou sent by my lord!?
I’ll strike thee with my sword!”

His blade is raised but stilled
The eyelids as if peeled
Limbs paralyzed in terror
‘Twas that an awful error!?

‘Tis the odd spectre’s hold
On his form now so cold
Approaching the young girl
His words, start to unfurl:

“Of her I shall take care
If only wouldst thou dare
To grant to my possesion
Assets, for my collection”

“For riddles I care not!
Of those I’ve heard a lot!
What could someone like thee
Do now, to set her free!?”

Raising arms high above
It starts to cure his love
Making it seem so true
But stopping half-way through

“Thou art a seraph, right?
Please, bless her with thy light!
Please, what desirest thee?
Take anything from me!”

“To make her again whole
Requires thy own soul
It will suffice to mend
The wounds of a dear friend”

“Well, If it must be so
As I won’t let her go
My essence may fill hers
Seems like that she concurs”

Their fate was swiftly sealed
Turns out she was not healed
Both meant for hell’s inclusion
‘Twas all just an illusion


*The Promise Of Hell by João Massada is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.