The Demon Dwells - Final Version
maribeth3777
Posts: 19
(For those that were nice enough to read and comment on my previous post of this poem, this is the completed version) Enjoy...
The Demon Dwells
Written by: Maribeth Duncan
He stares into my soul and pulls the demon out from the bowels of my hell.
Swear I’ll just listen for a bit, but never buy the lies of the story he has to tell.
Lost in his eyes and found in his voice, he climbs in to bring out the shadows cursed and confessed.
Spoken of past sins committed, present virtue fleeted, the demon greeted, steals my heart from my chest.
I recall the children lost in the world of their own pain, absent is the voice of reason to calm their fear.
Broken and abandoned, guilty of only innocence, facing the world bravely, never having shed a tear.
Parallel memories of past scars and heavy burdens carried long past their worth.
Each child is waiting in the shadows to be freed with the coming of an angel's rebirth.
Swaddled in the comfort of what is familiar, self-loathing discontent feeds the demon dwelling inside.
It grows and swells until it bursts the bleeding flesh, now insisting attention, it can no longer hide.
The children left in the dark blindly searching for their only weapon of defense.
Slowly realized the weapon was destroyed during the death of their innocence.
The demon thrashes about, plots revenge, and retreats just before it can be brought to light.
It holds the mouths of the children shut and keeps them held prisoner, far from public sight.
It laughs at the misery of others caught in the cross fire of a war fought on the battlefield of the mind.
Flashing images of past pain inflicted, it refuses to let us leave the agony for someone else to find.
So we grow old with the hurt, though the wound never quite heals, left to be picked by the demon that dwells within.
The leash tied closer to the neck, taming the beast proves to be a lifetime of work fit for one thousand men.
The monster restrained, the children are free to roam, captivate the imagination and enlighten the mind’s blackened eye.
Deafening silence broken, redemption sought and found, reminding us to breathe, stop and take time for a joyous cry.
The man before me, once a child of shared shadows, greets me with a smile from the angel inside.
His demon freshly subdued, he is free to speak of his own children and release a lifetime of lost pride.
And now, I listen intently for the message he wishes to share, and I buy each word of the truth he has to tell.
The children have passed judgment; the demon is shackled and sentenced to life in the angel’s prison cell.
The Demon Dwells
Written by: Maribeth Duncan
He stares into my soul and pulls the demon out from the bowels of my hell.
Swear I’ll just listen for a bit, but never buy the lies of the story he has to tell.
Lost in his eyes and found in his voice, he climbs in to bring out the shadows cursed and confessed.
Spoken of past sins committed, present virtue fleeted, the demon greeted, steals my heart from my chest.
I recall the children lost in the world of their own pain, absent is the voice of reason to calm their fear.
Broken and abandoned, guilty of only innocence, facing the world bravely, never having shed a tear.
Parallel memories of past scars and heavy burdens carried long past their worth.
Each child is waiting in the shadows to be freed with the coming of an angel's rebirth.
Swaddled in the comfort of what is familiar, self-loathing discontent feeds the demon dwelling inside.
It grows and swells until it bursts the bleeding flesh, now insisting attention, it can no longer hide.
The children left in the dark blindly searching for their only weapon of defense.
Slowly realized the weapon was destroyed during the death of their innocence.
The demon thrashes about, plots revenge, and retreats just before it can be brought to light.
It holds the mouths of the children shut and keeps them held prisoner, far from public sight.
It laughs at the misery of others caught in the cross fire of a war fought on the battlefield of the mind.
Flashing images of past pain inflicted, it refuses to let us leave the agony for someone else to find.
So we grow old with the hurt, though the wound never quite heals, left to be picked by the demon that dwells within.
The leash tied closer to the neck, taming the beast proves to be a lifetime of work fit for one thousand men.
The monster restrained, the children are free to roam, captivate the imagination and enlighten the mind’s blackened eye.
Deafening silence broken, redemption sought and found, reminding us to breathe, stop and take time for a joyous cry.
The man before me, once a child of shared shadows, greets me with a smile from the angel inside.
His demon freshly subdued, he is free to speak of his own children and release a lifetime of lost pride.
And now, I listen intently for the message he wishes to share, and I buy each word of the truth he has to tell.
The children have passed judgment; the demon is shackled and sentenced to life in the angel’s prison cell.
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Godfather.