casting their scents across vast plains of gloom,
quite a stark contrast of characteristics here.
Luminous orbs lighten the looming dell,
to which we ride on nightmares of hell.
as the sulphurous smell of brimstone and niter
engulfs our senses, we will realize that rather
than suffer an eternity of such severity
we ought to behave and show good charity
to our fellow man. but we iconoclasts will
ever choose the harder, less beaten road.
for we are a hardy race still,
who cannot submit to the goad.
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