BURNING THE 7th CIRCLE

Hope floats amongst the smouldering ruins like a dark cloud, promising deliverance. The gates of Hell are to be opened by the beckoning of the sloth. Ignorance is bliss when it is shared alone. A strange spot falls from the sky. Red earth burns beneath a blood-red sky.

There are powers on Earth that can not be changed by the cries of Heaven. Mortal flesh feels the immortal struggle between grace and sin. To err is human, to forgive, divine. I lay here in wait of divinity in motion. The closer a thing comes to its perfection, more keen will be its pleasure or its pain.