Open, wanton, sick and twisted;

Is the box of flesh your soul resides in.

Closed, Holy, Life and straight;

Is the path of life we’re given from Him.

Say you are able to find the way Home,

And your tongue will make you a liar.

The only way Home to a wayward soul,

Is consumed by The Holy Fire.

How can the flesh endure His great thrashing?

What strength does it have to remain?

The soul either emulates all that is passing,

Or submits itself to be tamed.

By His Grace