Devils Terms
Travel the road that has no name
where the Devil awaits, though not in vain;
for this is the road of open trade
where nothing less, than you soul is weighed.
Come take your pick, from my specials today
just a little assurance, is all that you pay;
your wanting, so much, where do I sign
his finger, pointing, to the dotted line.
Glasses are raised a call for a toast
to the man whose body, now has no host;
the Devil grins, now the sale is sold
as he drinks from the cup, of a thousand souls.
Fiddlers bows cross there strings
drunk on the souls, the Deivl grins;
death be swift come high noon
when your soul will dance, my fiddlers tune.
D.J.Daniels
Copyright © David Daniels | Year Posted 2015
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