The Halls of Hell

Deep in the darkest halls of hell The air is thick and black as night The ravens crow is only heard To mark a death or a dying right A bleeding hound devours prey A flaming witch her heart ablaze A molten brand of steel and fire Crosses burn while sinners gaze Make haste the wolf its lashing tongue A wild abomination Make waste the jackal lies in wait A joyous indignation Tower of brimstone pillar of smoke No star or moon or sky about Only darkness ever rising Ever reaching cloud of doubt Plunging depths of flowing lava Rivers streaming all a scatter Deeper caverns never carved Hope or faith could never matter Welcome boss man, Stephan Duncan For all of your atrocities For all your crimes against the slaven For hundreds of eternities Welcome, the thugs of old New York Mass murder in the street The dons of Philly and Saint Louis The tommy guns defeat Despair and pain without relief All who thrive there know it well Damned for all eternity In the deepest darkest halls of hell Copyright © Mike Martin 2015