Hell Is Everyone Else

There are no depths darker than those forgone internet trenches
ancient pages, disused forums where dust drifts thick over everything
tumbling tables of words buried under layers of spent sentiment
cursed old habits of angst and wrenching orphaned emotions
forlorn and abandoned, windows blank clattering and tapping
echoing emptiness in the absence and abstinence
all the angels and deviants long gone and grown
or perhaps no more, not a note or a post to remember
the glory that once flourished and the reckless courage
of that brave vanguard, the first peoples of the interwoven webs
now lost inside their own heads, gone gone gone
writings in secret code forgotten, none none none
holds the other and comforts their dial-up lover
spiritual advisers who calmed storms like prophets
cradled hopes and encouraged
the emergence of the ephemeral divine.

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