I was like the Prince of Darkness in a preacher’s robe,
A traveling preacher in the northeast of America.
I did the Lord’s work seven days a week,
Turning lost souls into believers,
Saved them all for the glory of God.
I did the Devil’s work at other times,
stabbing many unwary women to death.
I brought hundreds of people to God,
Ended fifty women’s lives for the Devil.
I had no problem with the contradictory life.
My conscience didn’t care about the infamy.
I was a clever fiend, never got caught,
And I savored all those sweet kills,
Starting with neighbors’ pets as a child.
I died of a massive heart attack in 1873,
Which was ironic, heartless as I was.
When I knocked on heaven’s door
I thought God would forgive my murderous sins
Because of all those lost souls I saved for him.
And after all, I reasoned, he had made
Me into the half holy half unholy thing,
Preacher monster killer that I was.
But nobody answered heaven’s door
Even though disembodied I’d changed.
I lost my compulsion to sinfully kill.
The preacher in me took completely over.
And even though I worked for Satan some,
I didn’t want to go to his world of torments.
So in my ghostly form I roam the world
From church to church praying and confessing
With the hope of enough sincere atonement
Heaven’s door will eventually open to me.
Bob Boyd