Isolation Pilot Plant

The closure rate of the drifts
Requires synchronization
With the arrival of waste.

When all goes well, Hell is filled
And sealed for eternity,
One vast hollow at a time.

Nothing collapses, nothing
Leaks out. If by some chance
Damnation’s imagineers

Guessed correctly concerning
Perpetuity, and God
Had no choice but to cast out

Unforgiven post-mortem
Into eternal darkness,
Then lost souls must be to God

Something like nuclear waste—
Unspeakably dangerous,
Untouchable forever,

Toxic to the innocent,
Irreparably ruined,
Carefully stored and shut up.