The first time I welcomed you to hell.
As I remember you didn't take it well.
Wasn't quite like you wanted it to be.
You complained about heat and drapery.
We were angels and hid under the cover.
But we could still fly into each other.
Our arms had all these singed feathers.
If only we could have learned together.
But it all happen so fast and was new.
Hell can change people and ideas, too.
First time I came to hell it was dark.
There were no flames not even a spark.
It was cold, lifeless and quiet there.
My cobwebs hanging and needing repair.
The cobwebs couldn't cling letting go.
My spiders were nervous and then echo.
Hell had a guest and listened intent.
You cast a shadow and it was content.
As I remember you didn't take it well.
The first time I welcomed you to hell.
