Saturday, August 25, 2007

186 : 10/13/98 : Lords of Hell (Canto 8)

Arcs of flame started from the rusted stack
that towered at the edge of the swamp we came to
And in a moment through the fog flames answered back

My poet guide said hell does not yet name you
But this signal means they mark our reproach
And he pointed past the fog, all shot with flame, through

which a speeding shadow had begun its approach
The silence was broken and the water disturbed
by the passage of the 30 foot fiberglass coach

We stood there on the shore of hell’s suburbs
At the sight of my guide the boatman said “Poet, at last
I’ll convey you to a proper shore”; my guide replied “Let your hunger be curbed”

“We need you for passage only, then your usefulness is past”
He gnashed at that but he let us board
And his sullen features seemed of lead cast

Off the side a figure rose up; from his foul robes water poured
His burning eyes filled with a hungry plea
And hissed why does a mortal come here where wrath is stored

And with a flash of anger I slapped his hand from me
recognizing him as one who had done me harm
“Filth to filth” I muttered angrily

“So shall all be judged who judge” said my guide, his words served to charm
My anger as quickly as it had come
And as we neared the shore I saw our passage had raised some alarm

I heard shouting voices and the beat of a drum
“You’ll pay more than fine words to pass us” a voice shouted out
“We are lords of hell and not mere minions like some

Your poet friend here’s found it easy enough to route
So you skinwalker go find your own way home
And you poet, come let us pull you inside out

I looked back at the vast reach of treacherous foam
and scum laden water behind
Wondered if I was now cursed this cursed landscape to roam

T.S. said “cast the trouble from your mind
these dukes of hell cannot resist their orders
of powers they must bow to, though to them they are blind”

“Pray Eliot,” shouted one of the dark wardens
of the iron doors that stood in our way
And barred our passage to hell’s city’s borders

And my poet guide aside to me said “indeed pray
And on this request a great spirit comes even as I my vespers say.”

This song is part of a series loosely based on Dante's Inferno. You can read an essay about this series here. You can read a more general explanation of the origin of these lyrics here

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