Dear universal true reality,
My friend has prayed to God, your instrument,
That He would make me miserable with glee.
Now, like Lucifer, I cannot repent.

So I must meet with Him in open battle,
And test my will with his, and see whose is larger.
This battlefield, my life, may quiver and rattle,
But Suffering gives me faith; my heart grows harder.

My will with yours shall tear his soul in twelve
And send it to the scattered tribes, unseen.
I used to fear the lord, and then myself,
But now my fear is lost, my eyes are keen.

His grace is not enough for him to win.
Your grace is stronger coupled with my sin.