Do you know the hardest part?
When you’ve
been through hell
and back?
It isn’t the
yowls of wretched souls,
seeping your
life.
Or the fiery
flames,
charring
your spirits.
Or the
painful anguish,
of hopes in dash.
Or hollow
dead eyes,
peering in a
dark future.
Or dead,
torn ear drums,
shattered by
incessant screams-
waiting for
a voice of hope.
For verily:
what more
can life do
to a people
who have been through hell,
and back?
But after
many sojourns down this path,
I verily
know when the hardest part beckons,
for even the
Phantom and Count Dracula shudders:
for the
hardest part
Is when at
the end of the road a soul reaches,
and the familiar
hell path again beckons.
When at rock
bottom your dream hits,
with slow
sickening hit, it thuds,
before
giving way, floor opens:
TO HELL!
