Hell on Earth

This one bothers me cos I con't figure out a fix..Cos of how the5 lines starting with the word "every" don't fit the writing style of the rest..Don't like the title either, tho it explains what the poem is describing.. Your body and soul, you think you hold it, But the world is weaving as it would. Demons are sent to another realm, What makes you think this ain't it? Nature takes you when she wants to, Not even suicide is your own free will. Some die young for good behaviour, Or old and lonely, so greatly they have sinned. Every creation, a work of art, Every movement for a purpose, Every stroke painted by Fate, Every piece slowly growing, Every taste shaping and moulding, Like fables being honed, Paths cross for final bows. Only the greatest signed in stone, Etched in history to live forever.