Hell's Great Pain
It's not the molten lake of fire,
by GREENWOLFE 1962
The dungeons dark and damp.
The heaving mass of mournful souls
Upon whom we might tramp.
That makes of Hell the savage place
We dare not ever go.
And makes us tread the narrow path
To Heaven, don't you know.
No, these are but the manifest
Of symbols we might use,
Just to give our little children
Advice on which to choose.
The savage pain endured in Hell
Is yet more true and real,
If you should ever feel the love
That Heaven can reveal.
I know this for I ventured there
For oh so brief a time.
And felt the love of God's embrace,
His glory so sublime.
It came to me in such a dream
As I cannot explain.
And satisfied my mortal soul
So much, I felt no pain.
The lesson that I learned from this
Came after I awoke,
And realized I lived again
Encoiled in mortal yoke.
So this, in truth, is all we need
To know of Hell's great pain.
The knowledge of the love we'll lose
And never know again.