Saturday, September 18, 2010

Pity the Boatman

There are those who dwell
In the darkness by caste
In the depths of sorrow
By decision
Some by choices in haste
Some by indecision
Some with lives forgone
And they end being forfeit
So have pity upon him
Have pity for Charon
Master of the boat
Across the rivers
Of Hell
Styx, Phlegethon,
Acheron, and Cocytus
For his work is endless
His work is unwelcome
Bringing souls from the living
Through the sleep of damned
To the fires of Hades
Where the souls
Can be tortured
Be burned eternally
Pity the poor Charon
The boatman’s job is toil
For which he is hated
We keep feeding the lands
Of eternal lakes of fire
The gates of Hell are firm
The fire-born lakes burn hot
None enter without Charon
But they must somehow
But the rivers are swift
And destroy without killing
Consume without hunger
For death is forbidden
And sleep is gone
All that exists is pain
Charon escorts the newly dead
To a place they will never leave
And only pray to die