Would you have me let the demons win?
Satanic whispers tell me to let the demons in,
And they are tempting, so tempting, and their eyes
So full of ugly truth convince me of their lies.
And if I refuse them, as I try to do
They claw their way back in, and doubts they grew
From tiny seedlings in my mind,
Doubts they harvest, cultivate, and find,
These doubts they feed me, a banquet of a feast
Fed to the greatest of the kings, yet I’m the least.
And if I beat myself and I feel pain,
Then am I strong, or simply weak again?