Epitome of Evil

Wrestling against the iron rods

that bind it tightly to my soul,

it tears, and bites, and storms within,

As crimson testament to my sin.

 

It is the one with viper’s tongue,

a flame of fury, and gnarled limbs,

of writhing body and wild eyes;

I wreak the havoc You despise.

 

And, restless, night and day I plead

For You to quench its roaring fire

To rid me of its piercing gaze,

My selfishness and feeble ways.

 

Of evil, I, the eiptome,

Caught by its chains, to its delight

God, from its clasp, please set me free,

To be ever, only, all for thee.