The devil is messing with my words
Changing the content, the meaning
Stripping my soul, searching for more
He is trying to bleed me dry
I can’t hide, he has my number
He tells me my time is running out
I am looking for a sign to save myself
A way to hide my written words
from the fork tailed one
Am I meant to write something to please him?
To compliment him. Does he feel misunderstood
As many of us are?
I felt a great force shoot me forward
as if shot from a cannon
He was impatient for me to begin
I chose my words with care
Once upon a time, he lived among the angels
The favourite son of God
I felt the air in the room shift
The cold had been replaced 
with a warmth I remembered
So I continued to write the devil out of my life
Keeping hold of my soul…

©AnitaDawes2022