מִיכָאֵל

When I slew my demons, they asked me,

“Who is like God? Tell me, do you know?”

I felt a little big and gutsy.

When I told my tale, oh, they measured,

“Man or angel? Power to let go?”

And I was wet from what I weathered.

My wounds were like coffee stains they sipped,

“Who is like God? He with no regret?”

Some shared, some you (p)refer to in crypt.

With the power within uncluttered;

My heart a nation, my strength my debt,

Clean, clean was my power recovered.