(A lone voice whispers)
Well, hello from just below hell, where lost souls like me go.
To wallow in limbo and be swallowed by the ever-shifting shadows of death's last frown.
Until I too walk underground, upon its unholy black ground.
While waiting like a cargo slave for a certain sound.
Of redemption no less.
Whilst dreaming of times bound in red tape, no longer around.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy.
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