Poem Entry #13

Bloodhound Demon: Part I (15 Apr 2016)

 

My vice is a bloodhound demon of the night

I can deny once, maybe even twice,

But on the third time his rage ignites

And I fail to offer him a good fight.

 

Not here, not alone, in the deep dark forest

Where the mind is strong but the eyes are poorest

I yield to the vice I solemnly hate

And the demon whispers, “You’re not so great.”

 

Then a voice booms far above my skull,

“Wretched fiend! Your power is void and null!

“He has my Spirit who knows not defeat.”

But that stubborn demon did not concede.

 

Whether he haunts in the forest or field

I smile—to the perfect Spirit I yield.

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