Smokey abyss...

As the smoke cleared,
and the souls that once wandered this earth stop crying,
He arose.
Back aching from the arrow that pierces his armor.
Bleeding from the lacerations that cover him,
And crying as the salt from
His tears and sweat tortured his wounds.

He lay battered, worn and lost. 
His eyes dance around the battlefield,
In hope of finding life.
However his vision was clouded by the stench,
Of dead bodies and blood that surrounds him.

He screams for help yet hears nothing but echoes. 
All of a sudden he sees a figure in the mist.
As it approaches, he hears indistinct whispers.
His eyes widen as he deciphers the words of the wind.
Am I alive? Am I dead?

God knows,
but then again,
God doesn't dwell in the smokey abyss of hell...