Grip Of The Beast

A devil arrived,

claimed pursue

you the soul he

searches in you.


To be a Queen,

the evil will try,

take your throne

with selfish lies.


To feel to dance

a cello let move

in and out an ear

plays gentle tune .


Let the drugs in,

find you an ease

that gives relief;

on reality feast.


The monster it

within craves;

but anger led

damns the day.


I want no dance

with the devil;

who’ll grip it my

soul to dishevel.


©jwinchester