Procrastination

All stanzas follow terza rima style

Though the torments of the gluttons still haunt, my Guide and I continue our descent.
An odd ticking noise resounds in the distance.
I feel a sense of hastiness, yet an urge to slow down rebounds.

Virgil spoke, "These souls of the damned have a conflicting existence.
They are forced to shift their arms around and around
the face of their clock with much resistance,

For they wasted time when on Earth they were bound.
Now they must be permanently productive
To keep time going with every tick and tock of that sound."

I did not even see the souls at first, for the setting was disruptive.
Blurs of blank white and numbers swirled and enveloped Circle three and a half.
I wanted it all to come to a halt, for I too felt like a captive.

Then, I saw the pitiful procrastinators, as they suffer like a slaughtered calf.
They are trapped in countless clocks that never cease to tick.
Pain courses through them all like an overworked staff.

The once lazy lingerers now twist their arms unnaturally, making me sick.
Their fingers point to numbers one through twelve, the black font seeping into their veins.
The souls tire, but keep going, staying rhythmic.

My Guide directed me to a specific clock, foreshadowing upcoming pain.
As the sinner pointed to three o'clock, the clock's twin bells boomed.
The hands' owner cried as his eardrums bled, and I too, wanted the shrill sound to wane.

After a whole minute, the racket had ceased. Then, the sinner's arms ticked and resumed.
Virgil, then, points out another poor soul, too tired to move on.
He paused when he needed to tick, then suddenly a ray of blue zoomed.

The source was Chronos, the keeper of time and beyond.
As I stared at the newly frozen soul, he explains: "They all wasted my gift of time.
They spare time, but I won't spare them. I freeze all whose energy is gone.

I then encase them in hourglasses for their crime,
Only to thaw in scorching sand, trapped in glass."
Chronos then smiled nefariously as the sinner painfully lost his rime.

I myself got chills as these frightening images were burned into my memory.
Yet, Virgil and I still pursued darker darkness, continuing to travel down far.

After listening to Ciacco's political prophecy, Dante and Virgil descend down to Circle 3 and a half. There's a rushed environment of blurs and numbers of a clock, for no time is wasted here. The souls of the procrastinators also wallow here, for they excessively indulged (Circle 3) in free time and greedily wasted it (Circle 4). They are trapped in clocks, their arms forcefully used as hands of a clock. The procrastinators must now work every second of their afterlives When a clock reaches an hour, twin bells sound loudly and painfully. This constantly reminds them that they can no longer rest, they have to stay alert. When a sinner tires and stops, he or she is blasted frozen by Chronos, the keeper of time. This represents how the sinners acted like they had all the time in the world, as if it was frozen. He then traps the soul in an hourglass of burning sand to defrost them. Each second the sinner wasted on earth comes back to punish him or her as grains of scorching sand. Dante keeps these horrifying images in mind and continues his descent with Virgil to the next Circle.

Leandra Lipat, Period 1

Drug Addicts

In my greed I wrap
The tourniquet around my arm
The syringe filled with venom

Ignoring all that leads to harm
The dose at its maximum
Expecting to do its charm

Believing life at its optimum
Unknowingly taking my last breath
Leading it to its minimum

Now I awake
Reliving the nightmares of my past
Not able to escape

Seeing all who I have hurt
Hearing their cries
Realizing my selfish deeds

Suddenly feeling the guilt
Wishing to repent
But not able to make amends

Each episode was once a blur
But I forever live the reality
Of what I have done

Here I am again
In reach of my crutch
Hoping to ease the pain

But instead finding
That it no longer has its effect
To erase the torturous memories

As the flashbacks become more vivid
And my escape now useless
My thoughts are haunted eternally

My canto is in the point of view of a sinner that has died from an overdose of heroine which lead to her going to the seventh level of hell. I chose level 7 for my canto because people that are addicted to drugs are harming themselves, their relationship with God and everyone around them. The drug can also influence them to commit violent crimes such as robbery, assault and murder. The sinner's punishment is to have to relive each event where they have hurt anyone or done anything harmful. They are also in reach of the specific drug that they crave, but when injected, has no effect on them. This leads to them feeling the guilt and pain of everything they have done for the rest of eternity without any escape.

Larissa Kastorsky, Period 1

Sloth

*All stanzas follow terza rima

I awoke from my, what felt like eternal slumber
Hounded by yet more suffering souls
The torment never seems to encumber

The circle between third and fourth whom Argus is in control
Always watching with his hundred eyes
Over troubled spirits, all in one desert knoll

His skin was grey, his height oversize
His hundred eyes, all black as night
But all are watching, just like spies

With these poor souls, their indolence was trite
Lovers of sleep and neglect
Now they must not be lazy in the slight

Alexandra Desjardins, Period 1

They're forced to work until they're wrecked
Forced to work while the hot sun melts
Their flesh, to stop would be a great disrespect

To Argus, their overseer who whips them with belts
None dare stop to take a breath
For fear of the welts

Of the poor sods sentenced to this cruel eternal death
One unlucky slave fell to the ground
His whole body shook, that poor slave named Heth

He said: "Please help me good sirs!" as Virgil and I surround
We lifted him up, holding steady as he stood
He told us his story, his words seemingly confound:

"In my home, I'd stay for good
I moved not an inch from my bed
Why I stayed in that house, no one including me understood.

Eventually, I began seeing a talking head
I was going crazy! The sloth had made me
Until the town thought I was too crazy and made me drop dead.

And now I'm stuck here, never to be set free
My bones are weak and brittle,
My eyes so full of debris."

Suddenly, the giant slaver whips Heth, always looking for a way to belittle
Forced to work for all eternity
Poor Heth slowly whittling away, little by little

Dante and Virgil have made it to layer 3.5 Hell, the circle between gluttony and greed. This sin is placed there because like greed but unlike gluttony, sloth not only effects the sinner, but also the people around the sinner such as their family and friends. Indolent souls work for all eternity, making up for the labor they could have done while they were alive. The giant, hundred eyed monster, Argus is the slave master, watching over all of his slaves and making sure they are always working. The slaves work in the scorching hot sun that burns the flesh right off their bone, but they can't let that stop them, or they'll be beaten by one of Argus' giant belts. The workers also work on one hill rather than being in their own seperate areas. This makes it so that one soul's laziness effects the rest group as well.

Alexandra Desjardins, Period 1

Abortion

After getting out of the area of bleeding trees
I was brought to an even crueler place
Where the land was hazy, with a freezing breeze

There was no evidence of life in the space
It seemed like everything, even plant life, left for the coming winter
There was nothing but giant egg-like figures made of lace

The eggs looked transparent, slimy and flexible like rubber
They were wrapped vertically by spiderweb-like strings
Which rooted to the ground, making the egg hover

At first I did not know what to make of these strange things
They were almost what I would expect a moth's cocoon to look like
A moth that had wings as big as an angel's wings

I looked with perplexity to my Master childlike
Who simply continued walking towards them
And looked over his shoulder, silently beckoning me

As I neared them my blurry vision became clearer
Suddenly, my quivering heart skipped a beat
Inside one of the cocoon was a beautiful, but ghostly women

He skin was sickly pale
Her long black hair looked dry like tree roots
Her body was exposed, but covered by her arms and legs

She hovered in the cocoon, bent in fiddle position
She looked to be a sleep or unconscious
Like a baby in its mother's womb

Enlightenment stirred me as I looked at the whole picture,
All the cocoons imprisoned women
Old, young, middle aged, and babies

I hurried over to my guide, who had been walking a head of me
Looking at my expression, he said to me,
"These are women who had committed the sin of abortion."

I said to him, "But how is that when some of the cocoons hold babies?"
He did not reply but pointed to a random cocoon
Within it was an old hag that looked like she should have dies a long time ago

She was sickly skinny, like a skeleton that emerged from a grave
I looked in horror, and horror still as she began to scream
Her cries sounded like they were from pain

As she yelled her cocoon was bursting
After a while of witnessing this unpleasant scene
The skeleton dropped to the ground lifeless

Her body began to disintegrate into sand
Before I could say anything, my Guide said,
"Keep watching."

I looked again to see something like a sprout growing
From the same spot the dead body reunited with the ground
Wrapped inside the sprout's bud was a pearl-like oval


This passage of the story takes place in level 7 1/2. Here is where those who committed the sin of abortion are punished. The women sent to this part of Hell must step in the shoes of the babies they killed. All of them start off as embryos in the cocoon, and grow into babies. They are never born, however, as the grow into children, then adults, to old women. They can never be born, just as the babies they killed can never be born. The women age until the moment before they die, and then they must suffer through the pain and anguish of childbirth. Just like abortion, the moment the women finally are born they die. Like the bible verse dust to dust, the women turn to earth and again a cocoon grows with them trapped inside. The circle starts over.

Khaya Ramcharita, Period 2

The Vain

Circle 7- Round 1 1/2

Then, I traveled to this next strange level.
What I saw did not look at all like hell.
The Victoria's Secret Angel models seemed to contradict the devil.

Looking at these gorgeous models was nice, but something began to smell.
There were these poor, ugly women with their eyes pouring out tears.
These tears went out of control once the models began to yell,

"Ugly!" "Gross!" "Fat!" "Smelly!" "You'll be like this for over a million years!!!"
The tears streaming down the womens' faces turned black.
This was because of their dark emotions, having the feelings of sadness, jealousy, and fear.

You could see the agony in their faces, and their emotions were not an act.
They were all hurting on the inside and out while thousands of mirrors stared them in the face.
One of them complained about their horrible nails and the mirrors suddenly cracked.

Shattered glass was everywhere and even landed in an old, dusty make up case.
Virgil finally said "That used to be hers until hell turned her this way."
I looked toward him as he stood on the Angels' runway base.

I asked him to make sure, "So these sinners had to be perfect and look good all day?"
"Of course, but now these conceited, self-absorbed women have to suffer with being eternally ugly, worthless, and gross."
Virgil and I almost felt bad for these sinners and wish there was something that we could say.

Yet again, one of the angels began to boast,
"I'm pretty, gorgeous, and have everything. You all are so nasty looking, it seems as though you'll rot!"
The model that spoke really meant what she said and had the most.

With one of the women, this really seemed to hit an emotional spot.
She began to look uglier and cry and mourn.
I could see this was another punishment, and the women were suffering a lot.

I felt awkward being around these women, who felt ripped apart and torn,
so I asked Virgil, "Is the next level as emotionally painful as this?"
He replied, "Don't worry my dear friend. If you know what's ahead, you will feel worn."

So, we departed as the ex-superficials continued to be dissed.
I even felt bad because I know they will be suffering with emotional pain for eternity.
But they had their chance to change. Too bad it was a chance they missed.


Coming out of round one, Dante seemed to feel bad. But coming to this new semi-level was different. It is very hard to tell how the people here sinned because of the Victoria's Secret Angel Models strutting down the runway. But here the crime of the sinners is being conceited and self-absorbed. Every single one of them lived a life full of glamour where looks were everything and nothing else was important. The sinners also bullied anyone else who didn't dress pretty, wear makeup, or look a certain way

Level Seven consists of many different sins, one of them being blasphemy. The sinners constantly had to look a certain way and cared only about themselves. They were hiding who they were and showed a fake person by wearing loads of makeup and by covering themselves in high-end clothes. Without any of that there would have been a completely different person, but they chose to be frauds.

Now the people on this level have a mirrors in front of their faces at all times. They all have no makeup on, wear dirty, ripped clothing, smell horrendous, have rotten, yellow teeth, matted hair, and smell like a sewer. They are to suffer while staring at their ugly, disgusting selves and looking at what they are not on the sides of them. Here, there are runways where the Victoria's Secret Angels yell cruel, demeaning words in their face. The more they hear these words and look at themselves and the models, the more black tears will stream down their face. When the tears keep coming, they turn uglier, fatter, smellier, and nastier!

There is a constant feeling of sadness, jealousy, and wrath. The second one of them speaks, the mirror in front of them will shatter into a million pieces, symbolizing how broken they feel inside and how ugly they look on the outside. None of them will ever learn that looks are not everything because they were too superficial. Living like this is constant emotional pain is worse than anything physical. This is why they will suffer for eternity, with their inside emotions feeling like their outside appearances.

Jillian McLaughlin, Period 2

Hoarders

Hoarding

Dante and Virgil arrive at circle 3.5 of hell, where the gluttonous are sent. The specific gluttons sent here are hoarders, people who in their lives have hoarded all their belongings and had houses stacked to the ceilings with useless waste. Hoarding is a form of gluttony, in that it is a habitual greed. Because they refused to clean and detach themselves from their trash, they are now forced to clean the offices of hell, as Beelzebub, the demon of gluttony, continuously stacks the rooms with more papers and used or broken office supplies. The flow of trash never ends, meaning the gluttons are sentenced to endlessly clean for all eternity, not stopping if their hands bleed or form blisters. The floors are lined with glue, making it a sticky environment, in which it is very unpleasant to walk. Unlike their houses, which were complete filth, they must keep these offices spotless so Beelzebub can project more litter at them when they’re finished.

*the rhyme is throughout the whole poem

As I set foot into this strange new realm,
I was puzzled. It felt as if I had left hell,
for other than the heat, it appeared as a normal room.

Everything seemed fine and well,
until I saw the hoarders meeting their doom.
How ironic was the fate in which they fell.

Holding nothing but a broom and plastic bags unfurled,
having gluttonously hoarding every item they acquired
in their life, they must sweep the offices of the underworld.

Since any ticket, tissue, or toy for which they were fiends
they passionately refused to detach from,
their homes remained cluttered and never were cleaned.

Beelzebub now commands them to sweep and dust all his scum.
Mercilessly, he’d continue to let it pile.
A man would have to clean as blood flowed from his blistered thumb.

Papers lined with sticky glue, I stepped through the bile
came face to face with a worker himself. He said
to me, “It keeps coming, it never ends,” with a creepy, forced smile.

For over a brand new wreck I had to tread.
When he cleaned up his mess, it automatically appeared.
Above Beelzebub’s throne I read,

“Atone all ye gluttons who enter, for the lives in which austerity ye feared.”
Most of them mainly had papers and documents to sweep,
but the worst of them all was sentenced to clean the demon’s beard.

“Guide,” I said, “how will we scale this trash heap?”
He said, “don’t fret, for we must just sift through.
We can do it, it is not that deep.”

Beelzebub threw more litter at us; the pile grew.
But we crafted a tunnel,
and from this level of hell we withdrew.

Kiril Manchevski, Period 2

The Greedy

We then entered the sixth level of hell
where i saw those who exercised greed
and in their misery forever they will dwell.


From this torment they will never be freed.
Unwillingly they will approach the lord of the dead,
being frozen upon arrival, facing their sinister deed.


While gazing at the souls waiting for punishment I spotted a head,
Bernie Maddoff, the leader of the line and surely the worst
my guide told me "with the devil he will lay in bed."


The sinners suffer and in pain are immersed.
The greedy gag and puke mucus, blood, and coins,
Unable to relieve themselves and forever cursed.


Condemned here for not following what God enjoins.
And now, a whole new group fell into my sight
As with Maddoff this new group, the NBA, rejoins.


Not satisfied with millions, now lost all its might,
greed paved these sinners' way to eternal pain,
their once sunny days, now transformed into infinite night.


These victims frozen upon Hades, receive a horrid rain
consisting of coins and wallets directed at them with force
and their silent suffering and muffled screams all in vain.


Hades shoves money down their throats with no remorse
until they are filled to the point of explosion;
the remains of their bodies is Cerberus' main course.


All this punishment due to their moral fibers' erosion
Cerberus' meal is then digested back to perfect form.
The cycle restarts, continuously punishing their acts of extortion.


And then my guide said, "Now they wish they could reform.
We've seen who belongs here, lets move to the next level of hell."
I'm tired of witnessing this violent storm that will never be transformed.


We have been here too long and I feel trapped as if in a cell
Let us leave Hades and Cerberus to their jobs
and continue down these circles of hell what we will see no one can foretell.


Greed is defined as an intense and selfish desire for something such as wealth, power or food. This sin is more prominent today and it is located in level six of hell. Many people undermine the severity of this sin; however, it is the root of many other immoral actions. For example, the results of greed often times lead to more serious sins suck as murder, fraud, and embezzlement. Although it isn't in the last level of hell it is a terrible sin looked down upon by God. As a result, this sin's fitting punishment must be excruciating. The people who have committed this sin must confront Hades despite their will and once they come upon his reach they are frozen on the spot (not in ice) . Hails of coins and the wallets of those the sinner has stripped are directed with force towards the frozen target. The sinners are constantly gagging and throwing up blood , mucus, and dollar bills but cant even reach up with their own hands to comfort or clean themselves. Amid all of this suffering, Hades is roughly shoving money , rotten food , and spikes down the throat of the sinner while the sinner is simultaneously gagging and throwing up. This process continues until the sinner blows up from being stuffed with money, rotten food , and spikes. The remains are fed to Cerberus who digest them into a perfect body once again to repeat the suffering. This punishment fits the crime because while these sinners were alive they could never get enough of materialistic items, often disregarding the suffering of others. In hell, they excessively get everything they wanted while they were alive. However, this cycle will never stop, similarly to the way the sinners never controlled their greed even though it caused excruciating pain and suffering to the people affected by their actions.

Jonathan Garrido, Period 2