The wandering spirit finds no rest
And will never return home at God's behest
For he has supped with the devil in his demand
To have a mighty sword for his enemy's end plan
The contract that he signed in his fresh blood
Meant he had no fear of losing his life in the battle's mud
But contracts with the devil have an ending to them
And when he reached it he could not himself defend
So now he pays the devil's debt as it had been incurred
To wander the world forever with no home laughter heard
And if perchance you see him riding along a road alone
Know that strength bought from the devil can't be condoned.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this poem very much, Paul. Read it several times and enjoyed it even more.