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Purgatorio
I stood upon a glass bridge
spanning across an ocean of fire,
and the roar in my ears was that
of an empty, crumbling church
on Samhain’s Eve at midnight’s hour.
And there upon the brink I remained,
life behind me and death before me.
I could hear the Piper play
calling to him the souls of the lost,
and the damned danced around to the music.
While I stood upon that bridge,
gazing into an unknown present,
I could hear the singing of the angels of God,
and snow began to fall from the deep azure sky,
Fluttering like manna to the ocean of fire
The flames that swirled around the damned,
licking away at their iniquities like Moroccan dancers,
slowly began to cool and freeze.
The snow soothed the pain of the dead,
a balm for all their sins.
As the flames died away I walked across the glass
and death was no longer before me.
Instead was life, fresh and pure like the sky after the rain
I awoke, free from the burdens and worries of the world
and began to live once more.
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