When you hand in this
fate, this flesh..this exquisite test
Stop at Hells Gate
and to the Devil a challenge, “A footrace, give me your best!”
And when his bubbling
percolating pride, “Agrees”
Tell him, “Through and
past the pillars of Heaven, if you please”
When you catch him
where he’s forbidden, spit on him, his ugliness, his sin
And sing, “You lose,
I win!”
Gunner©