Fear is the Belief in the Victory of Evil
For thousands of years since their fall from Grace,
The desperate demons learned to twist the straight,
To steal the unripe in the darks embrace—
What lacks Gods root, what bears no Graces weight.
They work through blood, through marrow of the spine,
To breathe a paralyzing, nameless dread,
To plant their whispers deep into the mind,
Till men believe the thoughts are theirs instead.
Those not led by the Grace of God Most High
Are blind in spirit, helpless to defy.
They do not see their souls slow, sick decline,
And so they fall—they cannot help but die.
They cannot help but sink into the deep,
Trusting their strength—so frail, so incomplete.
The undertow will drag them in its sweep,
Down to the depths where Light and Mercy cease.
To fear a thing but God is to believe
That evil wins—the madness of proud hearts,
Locked in the prison of flesh, deceived;
And to rise—not for the Holy Endowed,
Not for the Holy Wills own arts,
But for unending torment, never freed.
Fear is the faith that lets evil prevail,
Forgetting all things by Gods will are made well.
But trust in His hand—only this breaks the spell.
* * *
O Light of Light—
The path is narrow.
O dark of dark—
The gate is wide...
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