When did my life strike the hour?
In my eyes a bloody tower,
Ending the path of damnation,
Bloody gate of condemnation!
Looking at the archway I see,
Tall black figure's shadow on me,
Walking up slow to meet my fate,
Driven to the bleeding stone gate.
Rabid beasts with foaming blood,
Dripping down into the mud,
Gate opens to land of ruin,
Summoned me forth by choirs of sin.
In the ashes burning cinders,
As the corpses burn in embers,
Keeping my hands tight to my cross,
As I wander in darkness lost.
Death looks down upon me again,
Closes the gate to seal me in,
Holding me by the burning mire,
Satan thrusts me to the fire!
Evils powers reigning down with violence and hate,
Gathered in masses by Death's bloody gate,
Satan watching with his army of the wicked,
Casting blood on sinners of the wretched!
A/N: This poem is not ment to be Satanic. It just seemed like a cool idea.