Steam was rising from the stone, sweet odours erupted from bright pink cacti; clouds of humming flies brooded, and insects that bore pointed spears, hurled themselves in tyrannical nuisance to anyone who walked that road.
Furthermore, in speaking of walking, one had to be very careful not to slide and slip over - as all of the ground was sodden and slimy, and unfavourable to the feet's footing.
There could be no sun to be seen, yet the sky above was intensely bright and bore three feint ghostly moons suspended in their cloudless space.
- Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell- Azlander series
A never-ending rout of souls in pain.
ReplyDeleteI had not thought death had undone so many
As passed before me in that mournful train.
And some I knew among them; last of all
I recognized the shadow of that soul
Who, in his cowardice, made the Great Denial.
At once I understood for certain: these
Were of that retrograde and faithless crew
Hateful to God and to His enemies.
These wretches never born and never dear
Ran naked in a swarm of wasps and hornets
That goaded them the more the more they fled,
And made their faces stream with bloody gouts
Of pus and tears that dribbled to their feet
To be swallowed there by loathsome worms and maggots.
-Dante, Canto III The vestibule of hell