Holding On to Hell            Print this poem only

 

I have slowly loosened the grip

of one hand on hell

for a slow and gradual gain

but its persistent flame

still licks at my soul

has made me old

and beat in its heat.

 

I will not win this fight

with the dark and hoary blight

til I loosen both hands

to be wholly free

for the warm and deep embrace

of heaven’s healing grace.

 

Written 5-14-20