Could have never imagined
Nor dare even fathomed
That hell could be found
On the living plane's planet
Yet in its appearance
Belies a deceptive
Visage of contented
Condemned to the
Reckoning fields
They are tending
Which seldom aflame
But to nurture the soil
No infernal blaze
Of eternal pains
Boil
The suffering seems to be lost
On the tenants
Who don't see the land devils'
Levels, the menace
Their sustenance nourishment
Share of the crops
Just enough to ***** out
Where the stockpile rots
If through wandering eyes
One can spy where it lies
And to what reapers' scythes
They owe such a demise
As this gradual,
Downward pull
Into the pits
For the one who has risen
From deaths worse than this
But to them it is home
Pandemonium only
To one who in Heaven itself
Was still lonely