A fallen woman,
falling further still
into the depths
where fire and brimstone glow.
The Devil sadly
sighs “you'll have to go
for Hell is full,
too many men to grill”
So up she climbs
that ancient starry hill
to Heaven's gate.
A silent bleak plateau
of clouds and
broken harps, the place has closed,
no saints to
gossip with, no holy chill.
But then the moon
to her begins to speak
“you'd better go
back home, kid, go back home”
and then the moon
begins to cry and shriek
“I'm all alone,
my love, I'm all alone.”
She has nowhere to
be and so she rests
beside the moon,
his frightened banished guest.
AW
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