the mysteries of hell

is it a mountain, or an ocean?
or a vast uninhabitable land?
is it some volcanic isle, or a desert full of sand?
is it a work of some divine’s hand,
or just an imaginary story?
some place for those fallen off glory?

what is this place called hell?
is it merely a religious story
a moral tale to tell?
or is it real deep down the earth,
a place full of fire and molten rock,
a place ruled by demons, diabolic and dark,
a place absent of light, a place where hope is not?
or is it a prison for the sinful,
a dungeon for the unholy?
a grave for petrified bodies,
for corpses rotting slowly?

perhaps it is this canyon in idaho
hell's canyon for sure.
filled with cracks and crevices
sharp rocks and sharp needles,
a river called snake
and poison ivy, too.
i went there once and didn't want to leave.
hell had cast its spell on me,
the beauty, the solitude, a mighty river
rushing by.   a reason to leave I could
not find, too many reasons to stay
shackled my legs; I felt no pain or fear,
only freedom and happiness as heaven
winged her way in.

as a sign caught my eye:
hotel california this is not;
but hell's heaven, probably.
just watch your step

Thank you for stopping by.

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