Looking in I see him,
looking back I see him,
looking forward I see him.
With the slightest tug his face can be pulled from the trenches of my memory.
Fear, sadness, confusion
leaves my heart swollen when he breaks my walls,
when I see him in my reflection.
But the thought of life without my Devil leaves me more frightened,
He’s my crutch,
my guide through this life.
When I stop believing in my Devil, faith will be my crutch,
intangible faith,
an ominous Pit of trust.
But I must trudge through the Pit,
with an open heart,
without my Devil,
My friend.
My enemy.
My love.