This Devil is getting a shoulder ride
and staying on top of the Angel inside.
Always whipping and spurring me on;
he muzzles my Angel's dutiful song.
We race down the track; an odd-looking trio,
shackled and bound by Hell and a Halo;
and round we all go with no end in sight,
kicking up clouds of dust on Wrong and Right.
My Angel tries to lift me with wings.
Into my heart she pleadingly sings.
For a second we split from my Devil's wide girth
until Weakness pulls us both back down to Earth.
Amused, Life's spectators laugh as they see
the Saint, the Sinner, and little old me
stumble and fall as we hurdle and leap
on a racecourse that's bumpy, blind-cornered and steep.
And so, on we go; the three of us tied:
My free-loading Devil; my Angel inside;
united as one in a triptych complete
Immortally destined this race to repeat.
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