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Hope For The Afterlife by Vincent V. Cava

I hope that when I die there’s burning, and demons with pitch forks

I hope that when I meet The Devil, he’ll have goat feet and twisted horns

I hope that the smell is putrid, and the sights assault my eyes

I hope that no one shows me mercy, no matter how I cry

I hope they fill my mouth with maggots, ‘till I cannot scream or talk

I hope nightmarish nasty birds, peck at my face between their squawks

I hope they light my hair on fire and while I shriek and howl in pain

I hope they laugh and they make jokes, I hope this happens every day

I hope they make me watch in vain as they peel off my young son’s skin

I hope they break my mother’s bones for every time I ever sinned

I hope the afterlife is awful, and agony is ever persisting

As long as when I die, I don’t just simply stop existing

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