The surest hand the Devil’s ever dealt is the deceit blotted out into the dark of night…

Sure Hand of the Devil Dealt
by Michael Doyle

The bell tolls out into the black of night
So little is seen in this dense light
Locked doors are sealed for protection
Hold this up for truth's closer inspection

An old village rests half submerged
For reasons uncertain however much urged
The bell tower is seen in the sky
As an ominous sense of danger does less to rarify

Than doors once slammed in a child's face
History lurks in the shadow's cold embrace
A diabolical masque hangs eerily on the wall
Reminiscent  of a shattered past's recall

Candles and crucifixes ward off the shadow
And darker things that no one should have to know
A whispered hurt of kept remembrance
Offers little reward for all life's vain persistence

Footsteps heard in the still of the silent night
Leads to regret soon felt with a flicker of light
Startled awakenings bring their own locked doors
As the winds howl into the lurking something more

Our minds too often create their own prison
Locked inside for the lack of any real vision
Searching for the things we've bought and lost
Though no one tells us the truth of this cost

Despite near saintly stabs at veneration
Some nightmares pass down generations
Sins of our ancestors lived in a present past
Seal a destiny of dice that are cast

The bad dreams that hurt and hurt for real
Hurt less for the truth, than what they conceal
Feeling too much to truly ever be felt
Is the the surest hand the Devil has dealt

(c) June 23, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved