You are burning;

You are scarred;

You are stiff just like a bar.

You sense his presence;

You sense the snake;

You sense you are in Morningstar's wake.

You hear him laugh;

You see him maul;

You see him slither up the wall.

He stands before you, threatening and tall,

as he laughs while calling you pathetic and small.

Is it bad to believe the way he speaks,

as he's slapping you across the cheek?

He pulls out your nails then skips to your teeth.

He stares at you menacingly;

So thorough;

So deep.

He smirks as you whimper then suddenly speaks,

"WELCOME TO HELL, THE LAND OF THE WEAK!"