Cold As Hell

by Kenneth Vincent Walker

A truckload of Blues
Reads like a hymn
Beneath the cross-
Winged seraphim.

Perched on high as
Our souls swing low;
Impaled, unveiled
And best served cold.

Cold–as–ice.
Cold–as–snow.
Cold–as–Hell.
Cold–is–cold.

Most people assume
That Hell is quite hot.
Dare I presume when
I tell you that it's not.

To entertain a concept
Contrary to what we've
Learned that the flames
Of Hell's glory in fact

Inflict freezer burn.

When all is said and done
And you lie there in clover
And Heaven is calling
While Hell freezes over.