What is it thou hast seen? I prithee, tell me.
What is it that thy aging ears have heard?
Thy terror-racked expression doth compel me
To wonder at what horror hath occurred.
Alas, feared Father, how thy speech is slurred
And how thy twisted face doth now repel me!
Oh, canst thou not spit out a single word
To tell what thou hast seen? I prithee, tell me.
Dost thou know what spectre did o’erpower thee?
What future vision did this ghoul impart?
Are Satan’s flames now waiting to devour thee,
To lick the blackened chambers of thy heart?
Oh, is the fiendish news come that thou art
Soon destined to have fireballs to shower thee?
Oh, transfixed Father, won’t thou even start
To tell what fearsome spectre did o’erpower thee?
The priest hath fled; he had no words to save thee,
To lift thee up to God’s immortal grace.
The doctor blanched in terror as he gave thee
A potion to relax thy rigid face.
The life thou led was scurrilous and base –
Small wonder then Beelzebub doth crave thee.
There is no power through land or sea or space
Will love thy tortured soul enough to save thee.
What is it thou hast seen? My Father, tell me.
Let loose thy tongue! Relate what thou hast heard!
Recount what chilling happenstance befell thee,
What terrifying Fate was thus conferred.
In life, thou rode thy black horse undeterred
Through pleading hands that served but to propel thee.
Surely thy dead conscience is not stirred!
What is it thou hast seen? Oh Father, tell me.