The Door To Hell

door-to-hellSome time ago, he left his home
For Hell was too hot and swelling.
And now he’s here amongst us all
Where he’s comfortably dwelling.
I’ve met him once, or twice, or thrice,
That’s him with a beer, I think.
The old and buzzing White Horse pub
Has become his top place to drink.
– Yes, yes, I know it must be him,
For he brags to an older man
About the fiery mark he made
Long ago in Turkmenistan.