Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/44

36 As wenches drink from poisoned well,

'Mid purple sins and naked shame

In Typhon's olpe and churning urn

Of stranded devils, souls and lust.

When earthly homes are tombed in dust,

And Life forsakes geotic shoals;

When midst the tombs of penetence,

When coffins damp, and slimmy clay,

Each Lordly Helm is tossed in trust

To spiral vaults from plasmic holes,

Convolving cyclones spin him hence

As agate torches light his way.

Unmutteréd sighs teem in the air

As structural stars pass him by, And twisting clouds shape eerie forms

Until he reaches Satan's home.

Unholy visions curse and swear, Gyte vypers lull each demon's sigh,

Giant Dragons whom no Remorse storms,

Shake fists at opals in a dome.