In fraudulence, their ending was, so in ditches they suffer
– A true Inferno
Once good people were they, but from wonder, a beginning
so small
Holy things on other side, turned hands rotten with fake
riches
Backwards, the past, they recall, for futures exists no
more
Forbidden of future, cursed were they with heads aback
In the ditches they suffer, perennially painful indeed
Scholars of wonder, joined with them, together
Guilty were the Holy Fathers found
To Futures
played, spoiled
From holy things
sold
Ditches along hell
Pits beneath
Frauds
