His soul was dark And so he knew. Deals had always worked, Yes even with the Devil. For now, no way out, Unless he found time To repent, A word he did not know, So a long time In the prison of his mind Mind - worse then Hell - He would spend.
He was about To meet His Maker. A minute or two. Finally scared. All his defying thoughts gone And now not so sure, Not so brave. His true self emerging Revealing him to be As chicken as ever... So near to the grave.