Nightmare Poetry

Nine Tailors the Bell Rung

Spring has sprung upside right,

 In every graveyard out of sight.

 Filled ancient coffins of the past,

 To freshly buried none too fast.

Nine Tailors tolled the church bell,

 Opening up all the gates of hell,

 To give evil souls a place to dwell

 Deep down beneath any earth well.

Each faces a punishment in acid pits,

 Without atonement, they must sit.

 For their past sins, they are devoured,  

 Hour by hour, over again, redissolved. 

While others burn, burn, all too bright, 

 Enlightening all, with hellish lamp light.