Hot breath
Boulder swallowed to the center of my chest
Hands tied to the route past the river of styx
Tongue torn tossed
Eyes darting almost lost
But able to see the molten
Asylum made just for me
The notetakers of my fate
Did more than just write notes atop
My shoulders
God's servants hands look more like man's
Pressing against this sinners throat
Bubbling hot tempers for angels
Telling me hell came early