My Little Demon

I have a nasty demon, who works behind my back.
He waits for when I’m weakest, to commence attack.

He is mean but a coward, and ever so persistent.
Let my guard down for a moment, and he’s there in an instant.

Denial brings false comfort, or a moment of relief.
Giving space for him to grow, in his power and my grief.

He makes a peace into a war, and a pride into disgrace.
As the root of my trouble, it is he that I must face.

To banish him is futile, but for passing enjoyment.
This demon will continue, seeking new employment.

And work his way back in, for we are intertwined.
So, I must put him to work, in a way that I’ll define.

With deep trust in his evil, and eternal watchful eye.
A guard at the gate, that money couldn’t buy.

And when I see him move, rise in anticipation.
I’ll take that as a cue, for greater concentration.

To be present in my heart, and present in my mind.
For the weakness that’s approaching, but as yet undefined.

I’ll watch my little demon, as he prepares to play.
I’ll watch and hold the line, and that will be my way.

And my demon he will stop, at the edge of my gaze.
While I work upon that weakness, the one on which he preys.

And I’ll forge it as a strength, despite soaking dark dissent.
And I’ll thank my little demon, for his malevolent intent.

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