Lost Hunting Party

The snow swirled

Madly around us,

Thrust forth on

A bitter-tongued wind,

And each of us knew

That God’s icy breath blew

For the myriad sins

We had sinned.

And every man knew

He deserved it;

There wasn’t a one

To be spared–

We were lost in the storm,

And were never to warm,

But the truth was

We no longer cared.

We sat on the snow

In a circle,

Each man just

A shivering shell–

We’d accepted our fate,

And now we would wait

For the wonderful

Fires of Hell.