the sky is a velvet-red, darker in spots of evil.
the wind is stale, warm and dry. the trees are all black.
crows are the only birds that exist, other than that,
the demons are the only things that fly.

those demons and their brown-gray skin crawl the ground as if
pathetically trying to escape this world.
they screech and scream, trying get ahold of anything alive,
but to their dismay; they are foul beasts, not worthy of satisfaction.

This hell burns, hotter than anything any mortal has felt
hot enough to melt you, yet you dont melt, nor do you die.
the fear you have thrust upon you in this vault is tormenting.
yo want to run, you cant. you want to scream, you cant.

the chains are the only thing holding these demons up against the wall.
their chains rusted and cracked, only adding to the fear.
the screams of all the lost souls is sadening, you want to cry; you cant.
hell is a horrible place, filled with all types of agony and anxiety.

there is a place that exist, that only one can describe as so frightening as this.
the blackness has come, and i have been crushed by its weight, i've been in it before, and i knew how to enter, but was dumbfounded when i was tryin to exit. hell is fear, i know fear: ive experienced it. you know not fear, until you have fear pressed against your skin.