The Fate of the Phoenix

Amid the screams of fraudulent sinners
It’s poker night in the eighth ring of hell;
Twelves demons started, ten won’t be winners,
As from the game they have all bid farewell.

Now the two survivors sit face to face,
Each eager to win, not leave in disgrace.

Iniquitous Prince Belial on the right,
He’s a great inventor of evil things,
Versus Marquis Phoenix, who has the plight
Of sounding just like a child when he sings.

Scenting his chance to leave this place of sin
On the final hand, Phoenix goes all in.

His instincts told him Belial was bluffing,
But as it transpired, it wasn’t the case;
Phoenix’s pair of Jacks were worth nothing
Against a royal flush from ten to ace.

So defeated Phoenix would lose his soul;
From now on it was Belial’s to control.

His fate: to be cast to the mortal plane
There encased within a flame red prison;
To angelically laugh his sole refrain
Every time he ate his paper ration.

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