Hell is not a fiery pit
Or the great hall of a seasoned furnace
And demons striking flint.

It is not the final resting place
Of kin and foe who disobeyed
The crown and cross.

It is the unnatural state of mind
Congruent with coin and a toss.
It's the game of chance;

Taking on maleficent advisory,
Abandoning silence for a predisposed penance.
Prescribing your breath as one hoards immortality.