That’s what we called the pods over the genetic combinations of horse and elephant that we had created. Sarcophagi… the chariots pulled by steeds of Hell.
We’re on our way to Hell to pick up fresh feed for the steeds, and also to try and save our friend Raymond. He’s died and gone to Hell, cries eternally, chained to a lake of fire. Bubbles are always forming on his skin, he’s burning from the inside out. He’s chained! All he has is his ipod classic to comfort him, and he listens to pixies - tame on repeat because he can’t change the song, the ipod is just out of reach. It’s a good song he says, but it just all gets so repetitive.
Ah yes, like in an introduction to the chapter, perhaps.
“Chapter one: X and his posse set out to do Y. The poet take on the perspective of X.”
Who is X? What shall be the name of our hero?
Wait, I forgot how the poem went…
The light disappeared from the roads
we snorted until dawn made us crawl back into our sarcophagi
That’s what we called the pods over the genetic combinations of horse and elephant that we had created.
[ and ok let’s allow ]
Sarcophagi… the chariots pulled by steeds of Hell.
[ and maybe ]
We’re on our way to Hell to pick up fresh feed for the steeds
[ I don’t like this Raymond character. I’ts not an epic name. ]
Twenty thousand ivory-skinned prisoners from the weeping city in our trail