April, 2010

I can sense it getting closer,
The scent of Satan on the wind,
I can taste the sulfur on his breath,
A blade of darkness through my skin,
It never seems to leave me long,
Even on the brightest days,
It circles just beyond the light,
Like a loyal dog it stays,
He moves in like a predator,
Faster than the winter chill,
And whispers in my weakened mind,
"I am waiting for you still",
Like prey I run, until my feet,
Stumble, slip, and slide,
My will begins to slowly wane,
For he is close to where I hide,
His cunning ways begin to fool,
His voice soon becomes my own,
Conniving and conspiring,
Until the seed of doubt is sown,
My thoughts become twisted and torn,
Cruelly contorted as the faces,
Of weeping souls in burning coals,
Who’ve locked themselves in wooden cases,
He arrived when I close my eyes,
A garden he waits to reap,
Of planted lies inside my soul,                                               Sweet stolen peaceful sleep,                                                Anxious as I await his arrival,                                              Close is the comfort of my enemy,                                    Another battle has begun,                                                           To God I softly plea.

 April 2010