As Dante I've stepped at the edge of hell's gates
under heavy artillery of stares of my mates.
Purgatory locked forever, hidden behind the wall
of the soil under which mortals will boil
in their karmic flavour.
But where else then in darkness can you find
the right place where the light is oh so kind.
So take up your lantern of happiness
and let's kill this grayness with saint John's help.
No point in lighting the light places, so let's dance in shadows,
under trees in Elysium meadows.
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