I stare in the mirror,
And the devil stares back
Laughing and sneering,
His taunting attack
“I bought you, I own you,
Now run, try to hide
Your soul has been mortgaged,
Your spirit denied”
I run through the barn,
And come back with a brick
At the silvery glass,
I throw and then kick
The pieces all scatter,
And smash on the floor
As a roar can be heard,
From the rafters and more
A fire has started,
The hay loft ablaze
With bats in the air,
The demon has raised
I reach in my shirt,
For the cross round my neck
For my Grandmother’s promise,
To preserve and protect…
And the heat that it carries,
Burns bright in my hand
As I point it aloft,
At the horns that now fan
“A Rosary upon you,
Return to your cave
My faith is restored,
—my sins he forgave”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
Spirit Runs
I write from a place
that’s old, endowed
With brass left tarnished
and cobwebs spun
All time unsheltered,
where thoughts conceive
The truth reborn,
—and spirit runs
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: May 11th, 2017 08:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments4
Good write. I don't follow the Rosary part personally, I mean, in my own life.
Thanks. The Grandmother's promise/gift was the Rosary beads with the cross.
Great job Kurt. Very visual as well 🙂
Thanks, WBL
well written im not much into religion myself but still great write
Thanks, DeAn
Kurt
Good write, interesting story. This was one of the best poems I've read in a while.
Thanks, Jessie. That's very kind of you.
Kurt
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