Ken Allan Dronsfield writes

Ode to a New Hell

Blame me not of a heartless vengeance

spoken words nor intolerable pestilence

a keeper of life's incandescent tolerance

mocked by the icy queried inquisitions.

Steamy breath within pious incantations

raucous mind of a boiling incessant joy

home in purgatory, refuge within evil

I'm not afraid to walk this world alone.

In dungeons of a darkish desperation

percolating a new hell from deep within

roaming the covenant on ancient paths

uncovering graves of the fallen saints.

Battlements and those gated horrors

in bunkers of suicidal choreography

saltpeter and brimstone explode in envy

seeing the stars within eternal darkness.

The sky a dark hazy purple with red hues

I'm missing the blood moon in all her glory.

The question isn't "who will allow me life"

but rather, "who shall try to stop me?"

Entering in New Hell --Gaétan Weltzer