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
