• Down to limbo, a castle and fields
    Those who know nothing of Christ reside here
    In time when those are sent to the lower eight stages
    There's no hope of reconciliation, tis' a noble fear.

    The souls in lust
    Are blown forever by the harsh storm
    As their appetites swayed their reasons
    There is no one in this circle to reside in a dorm

    The third stage, the gluttons
    They wasted their life of food and drink
    They are now halfway buried in slush and raw snow
    As there is not one person who was smart enough to think

    On my way to avarice
    People cared about wealth
    They hoarded moneybags in life
    As they are scourged into pushing them back in no stealth

    The sullen and the hateful
    Always driven to wrath
    Hear the clashing of arms
    In this circle, there is no aftermath

    The sixth stage of heretics
    They claim that there's no second life
    Forever they'll be in flaming tombs
    No joy, no happiness, and not even each a wife

    The violent against themselves, God, and others
    Hear the clashing centaurs punish those in a river of blood by storm
    As the suicides gave away their flesh and blood in life
    So they will forever be denied a real, human form

    Stage eight, I see the frauds
    From twisted heads to those physically divided from discords
    They cheated others in life
    Therefore, the punishing demons are their lords.

    The last dangerous circle, the treacherous
    A three-faced demon in between
    His mouths eternally rip apart those treacherous to their masters
    As their screams are heard and their faces briefly seen