The Devil's Ire ~

The Devil's Ire ~


A black, shifting broil,
A scalding that burns,
He turns it on high as,
The stew becomes black,
It stirs and ignites the,
White pain in my chest.
Brewing my soul from within.

It makes me moan loudly . . .
'Will I ever be free of this?'

I listen with sadness . . .
To the broiling heart,
Stuck in the chasm,
Of the Devil's pot,
Wishing for my God-
To send a rescue that,
Will put an end to this.

'Never to be,' 'never to be'. . .
A voice admonishes.

And the voice, merely a drift,
That floats over my head . . .
Cannot sway the hand,
Of the Devil's intellect,
As He stirs me up in the flame.

Reviews

You simply not allow him, and it's great, you're not to be manipulated, by darkness, your light is just too strong. :) I though, enjoyed this so familiar, and often happening sentiment, that overcomes us all.

The inner battle, of good and bad. Your words, are mere beauty my friend.

- Elisa

[SquinklaPsyOps]

This was very well written, you kept your character constant and stuck to the subject. I have to say that you made several valid points, you really had me thinking.

Great work.

[Foxemerald]

Thank you for taking the time to review. I am actually of the religious inclination. However, deep emotional need will sometimes force you into analysis. I am glad you enjoyed this piece, and found connection with its words. My very best wishes.

[SquinklaPsyOps]

Lets have a cup of coffee and tell me everything you know about Angels