HADES | MISTAH J AIN'T GOT NOTHING ON MY TWISTED WAYS, I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A LIVING HELL.
breath curls around your head
like acrid smoke,
the fundamental sign of life
that chokes and screams
of death itself,
emanating from blackened
bloody lips that twist
into a snarl,
a villainous seduction,
as he snuffs his cigarette out
on the pulse point
of your neck;
a kiss of death.centuries of hero complexed
storytellers have warped his
gentle, dark existence
into one of gluttonous villainy,
and he's never been one
to back down from
a challenge.
souls depart this world
to enter his and
scream eternally for
release;
the shredding of lungs
and bursting of hearts
as they shriek,
begging, pleading,
for mercy from the
puppet strings hooked
beneath their arms
as he pulls and pushes
and cackles out
his suffering.the hellhound at his doorway
is but a glimpse
of things to come,
the trio of heads
stained pitch dark
and scorched with fire,
rows of teeth shining crimson
in mouths that howl
and devour the souls
that find no repentance
hidden in those ghastly
yellow eyes.the same malicious squint
is carved in the
cracked marble face
of its master,
and he makes sure
every last wretched fool
watches their reflection
in the glassy pits
of his eyes
as he throws them into
tartarus.
(do not fear the depths,
child, for it is the
only escape;
better eternal damnation
in the fiery pits
than eternal suffering
under that twisted grin.)and yet deep beneath
those sanguine snarls
and hands carved from bone,
there lies a dormant
seed of something like
goodness,
of cleansing the rot
from under his eyes
and shedding the
cloak and dagger.
because when winter falls
on earthy pastures
his one true love returns,
and his tyranny is halted—
only to be replaced by hers.
they're a deadly pair,
a perfect match,
two halves of the
same crumbling skull.
blood like molten lava
slips through their
fingertips,
eyes alighted
by those drowned
in waves of suffering;
together,
they raise hell.but alone,
oh alone,
he creates it.

YOU ARE READING
ichor
PoetryRINSE AND REPEAT if gods are only human, then they must be devils too. [ greek mythology ] [ 2016 - present ]