The Tipping of the Scales

The devil came amongst them,
As they rang the midnight bell,
Said that one of their number,
Must taste the fires of Hell.

“Which of you is good enough,
To stand forth and not quail?
To have your sin and virtue,
Measured on my scale?”

The crowd they grovelled in the dirt,
Each guarding his own sin.
Only one man raised his chin up high,
And walked right up to him.

The devil sneered in that man’s face,
And announced, loud and cocksure,
“Pride itself is sin enough,
I doubt you’ll prove that pure.”

“What feat of ego drives you,
To think you can pass this test?
What indulgence lends you to believe,
You’re better than the rest?”

“You have me wrong, O Satan,”
The man calmly declared,
“I am a sinner bound for hell,
But I’m now fully prepared.”

“You’ll come for me eventually,
Would it be such a blow?
If I gave up the ghost right here,
And with you chose to go?”

The devil reared and flexed his claws,
Gave out a mighty hiss,
“What game of words is this you play?
I make no sense of this.”

“Oh devil, it occurred to me,
The truth of the choice I face,
If I did not come with you,
Another would take my place.”

And that man he said to Satan,
“I have no other goal,
Than to go, knowing at least,
I saved one other soul.”

The devil gnashed his teeth and then
He cut that man apart.
Plunged those claws into his chest,
Ripped out his beating heart.

But the heart still pumped and throbbed,
With life and vibrancy,
And the devil clasped it with both hands,
To stop it breaking free.

But the heart began to dissipate,
Into a ball of light,
The devil roared as it rose up,
Gently defied his might.

For evil can be thwarted,
With each small act of grace,
And souls can move on from older selves,
To find a better place.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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