The Gate of Hellfire
A gate of flame, stands sharp and wide.
Its hinges scream, its doors are red.
The smoke escapes, the ground is charred.
The air is thick, with molten cries.
Beyond the reach, the screams are endless.
The chains are hot, the walls are black.
The demons grin, with hollow jaws.
They drag the weak, they drag the damned.
The gate swings slow, it drips with ash.
Its fire brands, the flesh of night.
The ground is scorched, the souls are torn.
They twist, they burn, they will not heal.
A voice within, it calls the lost.
It sings of gold, it sings of rest.
But when you cross, the light is false.
The song is fire, the song is pain.
The gate stands tall, it will not close.
It waits for all, it waits for time.
And when you pass, there is no end.
The flame consumes, forevermore
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
One scary poem you have here, Miss Marie.