When The Devil Takes Hold

How does the experience of demonic possession feel from the inside?

The Devil raises her into the canopy 

Beneath, the bonfire’s poppy-glow

Around, scarlet-cloaked personages 

Tripping with eager

Unseen feelers, examining to and fro 

A soft mind pierced, a naive psyche tasted   

The odor of rotten eggs, a display of red 

Whirring pests boiling against her ears  

The Devil does not speak in man’s tongues 

He addresses plainly those who converse in his 

His mutterings rustled up in her brain    

Pounding; power; adrenaline; muteness 

Penetration 

Chilled iron bar intruding on her heart 

Her soul’s undressing, naked black ego 

Insects infesting beneath her consciousness 

Oblivion  

Possession