We are the damned - the strain and moil
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That death had washed from earthly toil
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Drawn down by tides of hell, we boil
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Like toads within a torrid slime.
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Our sins were great - a deadly charge
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And yet less heavy than our fate
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We pour through hell's alembic large
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Each soul transformed to vital hate
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The good that in our hearts remained
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By sin untainted, now is one
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With vileness cankeringly ingrained
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By earth and hell we stand undone.
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For that which earth unfinished left
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The consummation of the pit
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From out the insuperable cleft
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To where its lords presiding sit.
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And watch with contestless sight
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We burn, by double test refined
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To clearest evil - purged quite
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Of good or mercy from the mind.
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Our souls are linked to vast despair
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As to some nadir-founded rock
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Where never hope descends to mock
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Beyond the dip of terrene air.
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We heighten to a hate that beats
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In rage all impotently strong
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Against the worlds that league with wrong
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Whose pain each other's pain completes.
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Would our gate were hands to draw
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The lords of earth and hell beneath!
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Would our hate were venomed teeth
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To rend them through their mail of law!
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Would that we might cleave with hate
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The roof and base, and walls of hell
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Wrench at its pillars till they fell
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With ruin indiscriminate!
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Immovable it stands, with springs
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Of fire to tear its inward glooms
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Where from, ascending high, our fumes
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Are breath of incense to its kings.
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-----------------
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Helliotica
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Thalarion |