POETRY ON MEDIUM
R.S.V.P to Hell
From Hell to Hell
On your ascent to the place I’m bound, Tell its lord he won’t have to wait long, Tell him I’ll join him soon.
I hope the banquet of screams is as I have heard,
I hope the platter will rival the one I’m served here.
Tell him that he better sharpen his tools, Better still, he should, on bended knees, pray For he ought to know; a forewarning is only fair, I’m no easy prey.
Tell him not to fret
I am well acquainted with my final destination;
in the scourging heat of this sun;
the same one as Icarus’ nemesis.
Tell him I’ll turn in my assignment when it’s due,
I’ll mark myself present when he calls the register, It won’t be early It won’t be late; I won’t tarry But I won’t hurry either.
Tell him I’ve had a lot of practice Exactly why he’d have to be twice the devil he is,
For pain is meant to be savoured, Like steak: medium-rare Like wine: blood red!
I’ll join him pronto, I just have to finish up here: Hell, part one.
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