Welcome! The great abyss,
The depth of sub-feeling, Despair
Has nary a ceiling,
The space that quells light,
The great beast that lurks in
Corners, timid but growing steady,
Ready to lunge at your swollen throat,
Welcome you, most humbly.
Plenty of good fun to be had, yes,
No need to quiver, nor shiver nor shriek,
Won't you reply? Listen well, Heathen,
Then speak!

"I haven't a way to reply,
As it seems my mouth has gone,
Perhaps you could help me, sir?
I have travelled through the long dark,
Tarried little and fought hard, though
I know not where I am,
For all that I see is bleak, colourless,
And without life.
Without shape in fact, even
You, who speaks in dark riddles,
Seemingly a bearer of poor news,
Have no shape whatsoever.
Perhaps you could help me, sir?"

Lo! You do not know?
Oh! This is good fun,
To be the bearer,
The carrier eternal, of
This so-called poor news.
Many similar passages I have borne,
In ages past. Time has wrought,
Anguish ridden, crestfallen,
Severe souls,
And they are delivered!
Like a crane to a chimney,
Time brings great gifts to my halls.
Listen here now, heathen,
And listen well,
For your everlasting fate,
That which you deserve, Is here
In the depths of hell.