Who's there
in the deepest
of reaches,
who's there
in our sermons
and speeches
who carves out
the features of man,
and his creatures
who typecasts the roles
of our priests,
and our teachers
who's there when we go
against grains,
fail to conform
just to harvest the strains
and then show up reborn...
who bears the brunt
of our soul's aspiration,
our brave macerations
that garble and blur
as he stirs
but what if he
were to fall,
fall even further
or rise, what for sins,
what for murder!
and game,
what to do,
who to blame,
who indeed,
maybe you?
Could it be
that the devil you know
still is better for all
than no devil at all?