This is a passionate prose collection of dark thought and poetic utterings.
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Charon, had been waiting for promised seal A duo of golden coins Promised pay of the condemned ordeal His cavity sears with wrath and scorn
He doesn't care about the reasons of who or why His practice is incessant and cold It just matters that his fares have died For this ferryman's occupation is to convey souls
Bound to a river that divides the living and dead His decrepit fingers clutch his charter Hollowed black sockets locked on the scribed name He is ancient, focused, with him, you can't barter
A pledge for Tullius was formed during his youth He is muddled, shaking, and petrified The personification of malicious uncouth Arrogant, he thought invented sly
No apology could void this sealed transaction Tullius thought of every excuse devised by man Played like a movie, shown every infraction If he just had a chance, he'd do it all over again
The reaper carefully memorizing The name that burned next on his list He grew bored, he had to souls to collect Something that made him thrilled enough to hiss
Tullius carefully planned his repentant discourse To the living he wanted to return He's matured, his ways he long ago divorced There are many lessons he's learned
He stepped up interrupting this odious two Smiling blacker than a demon's grin He started by saying his old ways are through Again, I have changed within
He continued, I had already saw I needed to change I'm a different me I had gave everything I valued away Help the poor and to the blind I would read
I helped the old people with ever I could I even had tithed my time But his tales of generous accounts grew drier than wood Falling on two callous and heartless minds
Charon stated, "You were promised to me." The reaper chimed, "Your change came too late." You are called for payment enter the ferry now Both replied your destination is behind hell's gate
