all positive apostles' hammers smash
then a cerberus sounds if it's its wish
crashing and then coming to a halt
the Lord his sword plunged to the hilt
still gazing back at his glorious light
i know venom and penance is much too late
in a daemons court that's cruelly dimmed
the nearly blind forsook weep as truly damned
honestly Father this time i promise to bother
burn these words to never have each spoken
aloud and lain so deeply, yet shallow in water
our hell gets hotter with a new brand of token
response, so detached by each despondent
now i know why i see no further correspondence
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