After Death- A poem drawing inspiration from Dante’s Inferno

By: Sean Callahan And so I sit upon my branch and pend The value of my breaths and of my flesh, In wait I hope that soon it will be done: The flash of memories past ‘fore end my days Where I will see how suffered I on earth and how others ignored my painful cries. A breeze rolls through and hearing wind rush rise Above the gentle boughs on which I lay In wait until I feel the cloud’s strong breath. In mind I felt naught but the great regret Akin to those who’ve seen God’s face but yet Been saved, his hand withdrawn and ropes been snapped So man may fall with body back to clay Yet body mine does wish but go to rest, The mortal sight last seen is seen in vain.

Tis but a dream, a fright but felt in flesh, Yet flesh abandoned past in time just now When hanging from a bough I slipped my twine. Oh where the choir of angels and the face Of God whom I expected to see here At golden gates with one saint and his keys? There is no golden gate, but one of stone, I quickly pass in mode of finding light But only darkness greets my undead sight.

After Death- A poem drawing inspiration from Dante’s Inferno
By: Sean Callahan Farther, walk on I before I rest Afore a plain of pained and somber men Who’d sooner waste away than find allies. There is no golden gate here in this land, So onward I must go in search of light And grace; forgiveness for my choice to die. I onward march but only do I see A line of other souls who seek the Lord But must first cross a river through the land. I wait my turn, and pray I make good time As heaven waits for no man even in death Where I now make my cross over water. I reach the side I longed for but to find The land is filled with faces that seem strange, Perhaps of people past I once had seen. Soon I find my first true startling sight: A man, a King but grown with beastly tail And ringed with souls that scream for Heaven’s light. “My God, where am I now, Lord please I beg!” He sees me now and snarls, his tail doth curl Round six, no, seven times: a fateful snake. My fortune told, a demon grabs my arms And cries I give to save my soul from harm Yet off I fly for time until I feel The same sensation as I’ve felt before

After Death- A poem drawing inspiration from Dante’s Inferno
By: Sean Callahan When gentle breeze doth send me into flight Yet now I fear no rope may stop descent.

Only now do I realize my fate; As here my spirit compressed into seed Does for apparent eternity grow. And still I grow till I may stretch my arms, But limbs of oak wood are all that I am, Much like the oak from which I took my life. And In my place I stay until a beast Comes springing through the brush and takes a swipe Against my trunk, where blood pours forth like rain And pain last for forever in my mind As there are no angels to heal my pains Of body though I’m only made of soul. I am no longer of the flesh or clay, No longer in the favor of the Lord, No longer worthy of a single glance. In here I am in torture for my sins, Not only of my ignorance but for The life that given by God I’d take away.