The Voice In His Head, Part II
...It was maybe ten years later,
as I slept in my bed,
that all sorts of infernal things
seemed to possess my head.
A procession of cruel demons
that long ago had fell,
and above them, the Morningstar,
damnable price of Hell.
They taunted me with cries that pierced,
burned me with fetid breath,
portrayed my sins before my eyes,
said, “You deserve but death!”
There was no escaping that fact,
so much had I done wrong,
the Devil said, “This is my world,
and with me you belong.”
But then I heard the Voice again,
“Ignore what he may say,
this fool challenged the Throne before,
his fall was child’s play.”
His voice sent demons scattering,
His words were holy writ.
“I paid your debts up on that cross,
fear not, ’cause I’ve got this…”
Copyright ©
David Welch
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