Abortion has
Taken first place
And looks behind
To see what it has
Won.
Still limping, the
Old runner, sick with
Eloquence, carefully
Makes up ground.
Swathed in faith and
Warm prayer he limps
Along, crippled to his
Boots, holding the last
Laugh, through gritted
Teeth.
Abortion is alarmed,
And picks up speed,
Determined to prove
That nothing exists.

Both near the Termination
It’s going to be a photo-finish.