The Devils Gift

(The Poetry Series #4)

She sits on the bench, a mess of pain, her tears ever present
Uncaring of the eyes that watch her demise, unmoved by their presence
Her world has crumbled, no longer so pristine, prestige abounds no more
And she holds her hands to the heavens, cursing every God
For her pain and loss is deep.
“Why God do you not love me, why forsake your child?”
“Why am I here, a mass of nothing, with no one to love?”
“I’ve done my part, I’ve kept my word, I’ve been consistently yours.”
“But look at me, Lord look at me, is this to be my reward?”

The stranger walks by and hears her cry, his heart touched to action
She takes a seat beside this woman, gingerly, caringly, lovingly
Her mind races, attempts to fathom the depth of this Souls anguish
Yet only from afar does she comprehend the realness of the despair
Only from afar, indeed.
“Sister I don’t know you, never saw you before, but I’m here, I care, what is it?”
“What can I do to comfort you, what words or deeds are you in need of.”
“I heard your cry from across the way, and I’m responding to you now.”
“So please do tell where I can help, and I will if I can, my word.”

With tear stained cheeks her head uplifts at the sound of the voice near by
The loss of interest in life now battling against a sliver of hope
For her awareness registers the kindred soul that made the time to hear
The wailing of a Soul once whole, now lost in a world gone careless
For in truth, who really cares?
“I’ve tried my all to be the way my God wants me to be.”
“Yet now it seems there’s no reward, and my life has been for naught.”
“I’ve come to know a truth, I think, to know this truth as true.”
“That God has lost the fight for man, because man readily accepts the Devils Gifts.”

A shock of pain runs through her body, her mindset stunned by the words heard
She tries to understand this woman, then asks God why place her there
What to say, and what to do, these thoughts ring loudly inside her
Was there truth for sure in what she said... No, how could that be
For the Devil has no gifts.
“Sister don’t say things like that, God don’t like those words.”
“Things will be all right, just pray, and soon you’ll see a change.”
“I have to ask how you could say such terrible things aloud?”
“And how can you say we accept anything from the Devil?”

The crying lady looks at her, she wants to pull her hair out
Her empty stomach rumbles anew, reminding her of the many missed meals
She readies herself for the fight to come, at least she thinks it will
And lifts a hand to the heavens above, not caring, not wanting, not willing
Not willing to believe.
“The Devil has the gifts you see! For those who sin get rewarded!”
“I’ve seen this time and time again, and I’ve lost everything because of it.”
“Yes, try to do good and you get stepped on, do bad and prosper, but still lose.”
“Try to hold on to integrity, and the world will laugh at you forever.”

Perplexed and bothered by these words the visitor begins to wonder
Why God have you sent me here, this woman has lost her faith
What am I to do with this, what words can be said to help
What kind of God would place me here to hear these tragic words
Why God, place me here?
“Sister why do you talk like that, you know those words aren’t true.”
“You know God loves us one and all, why curse God in such a way?”
“It seems you’ve lost your faith somehow, and now you seem to suffer.”
“Let’s take a moment and say a prayer because God has a plan for you.”

The lady looks at her unabashed, knowing she speaks from lack of knowledge
A tear falls down her already stained cheek to be lost somewhere is space
For deep within she hears the cry, “You’ll be hungry today, again”
And she shakes her head at no one, her fist she presents to God
She’ll be hungry today, again.
“Why did you even come to me if all you do is pray?”
“What can your prayer do for my empty stomach, or the house I no longer have?”
“Go away from here, leave me alone, you’ve wasted yet more of my time.”
“Tell your God the battle is lost, and the Devils got the gifts.”

A closer look at the other one and some things begin to clear
Commonality in how she looks, her mannerism, and her features
This woman now begins to see there’s much more here then thought
She questions now what’s going on, how this anguish feels so familiar
Her sister and she -- one in the same
“How dare you question God at all, how dare you attack his name?”
“How dare you give so much away, when you know that God is near!”
“And how dare you say the Devil’s won, when the fight is yet underway.”
“I’ll prayer for you, that you can see, the blessing that you really do have.”

And then the other turns to her, and looks her in the eye
She looks through her and all her walls and then she starts to cry
For in that moment the truth is known and soon no words are said
They sit there side by side in silence, soon both are brought to tears
Soon they are brought to tears
“You see, my sister -- I think you do -- that what I say is true.”
“And we will fight until we decide what truth we choose to believe.”
“I am you and you are me, and our hearts know what is there.”
“Now think a moment at what you know, and tell me why we spar.”

Along comes grief with the given truth because the battle is within
This sister sees not someone else, but the part of her she hates
She unfolds her cloak of hidden pain, that’s separated her from inner peace
She now knows she cannot not return to the falsehoods she once held
The two are one, they are the same
“I now see I am you, indeed, this dialog occurs within me.”
“I battle my thoughts and break me down, and lose that which I value”
“I play the role of being alone yet ever wanting for so much more”
“And somehow thrive in dire straights trying hard to mask my pain”

Now the two see eye to eye in this, yet questions are still unanswered
They sit together unwilling to bend, and so remain in emotional squalor
The seasons come and go with time, the two frozen side by side
Long icicles of tears now lay before them, tears from indecision and pride
And together they wail a cacophony of hurt
Together they act to defeat their very happiness
Louder and louder, and more sinister each time
‘Til early one morning the two that are one
Is wakened from this misery...

...

“Honey, wake up.” He says... “Wake up, you’re having a bad dream”

She awakens and looks at him, the morning light falling gently on his face.

“The nightmare,” she says, “It was the Devils Gift.”

He looks at her not understanding, not comprehending, bewildered.

She falls into his arms, crying.