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Poem

The storm descends, a howling, bitter plea,
And darkness wraps a world that once was free.
I stumble, lost, upon this treacherous ground,
And hear a voice where solace can be found.

Not from above, where choirs used to ring,
But from below, a darkly tempting thing.
The Devil speaks, a promise in his tone,
Instant relief, a burden overthrown.

A heartbeat's pause, a flicker in the soul,
To choose the path that makes me truly whole.
Or grab the hand, that promises such ease,
And barter blessings for a moment's peace?

To whom to kneel, when desperation bites?
Who lifts me up throughout these endless nights?
Do I even care from whence this power flows,
As long as answers blossom, where despair grows?

Would I know his voice, a gentle, loving guide?
Or be deceived, by shadows deep inside?
The line is blurred, temptation holds its sway,
And urgent needs demand I choose today.

God's eyes are watchful, ever fixed on me,
A constant presence, even when I can't see.
But fear is loud, and logic takes its leave,
And desperate hearts are easy to deceive.

How would I know? The echo in my breast,
Between the right and wrong, as he puts me to the test.
Perhaps a whisper of a forgotten prayer,
A sudden memory of a love to share.

Bless the sinners, caught within this bind,
For weakness dwells in every human mind.
May grace prevail, when darkness starts to creep,
And in the silence, find the strength to keep,
To keep the faith, though shadows twist and loom,
And choose the light that guides me from the tomb.

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