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Heat from within, gloom kindles the fire.

It spills out & covers the light.

Meaning, loss, persistence of might.

Piles cannot oppose the density.

The wicked circle faces its destiny,

Trembles anxiously, dying defying.

The tar flows down the valley.

Towards perdition, withstand ignition.

Ritual of fire, dust and pyre.

Shredded bones in vortex of contempt.

Lurking demons above the dead.

Scattered stones like stars

Mark the way in the crust.

The tongues of flame lash and burn.

Powers and spells, holds back the gates.

The Petrified substance smokes and blurs.

Heat from within, gloom kindles the fire.

It spills out & covers the light.

Meaning, loss, persistence of might.

Piles cannot oppose the density.

The wicked circle faces its destiny,

Trembles anxiously, dying defying.

The tar flows down the valley.

Towards perdition, withstand ignition.

Ritual of fire, dust and pyre.

Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep, Still threat’ning to devour me, opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a heaven.

~John Milton.