I've heard it said, that when you're not Heaven bound
that you are, 'Going to Hell In A Hand Basket! '
You're going down, down, down!
But wouldn't the fire burn the basket in flames?
And possibly cause your decent to miss your Hell's aim?
Then causing the rope to break from heat
and you're decent into Hell you would defeat.
I would rather the rope and my basket be held
by the maker of all, earth, Heaven and Hell.
So that He would pull me up, one day at a time
Then up, up, up to Heaven, my Hell's basket would climb!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem