Demon Child with Demon Eyes
Demon eyes, demon child.
What's inside that makes you wild?
What's the thing that they all see?
That evil twisted part of me.
Freaky face with mouth of lies -
Demon child with demon eyes.
"Don't defile God's handiwork!
Stop claiming that there's only mirk."
Am I really? How can I be
When that's all you claim to see in me?
Forget the fight to try for good.
Apparently that's only crud.
All you see is Demon child,
Perhaps it wakes all your 'defiled'.
I hate this twisted poetry.
It only comes out in agony.
But what do they care? They laugh and scorn -
Other hearts will bleed and mourn.
It's near impossible to tell
Who's from heaven with their echoes of hell.
Gossip-grieve, they bury the corpse
Of Demon child they killed with thoughts.
When sin is birthed, then it is death.
I was slain on their whispered breath.
Their 'loving concern' behind my back -
So like the Master, isn't that?
Forget the good - and who will be
The first to throw a stone at me?
Throw her back to the darkness - you'll see
Only Demon child inside of me.
The devil's near to claiming his prize -
She's overcome by Demon eyes.
In constant war you cannot see,
There's death that lives and life killed for me.
You don't care, but I am free.
I'm God's own child. He died for me.
I don't have logic or wisdom or words.
My head is stupid and my love is cursed.
But somehow, there's One Who lives for me.
I'm God's. I'm loved. I'm safe. I'm free.
I would have far greater power in the hands of evil than I ever can through belonging to Christ. Belonging to Christ means I must decrease and I am weak because I am fighting a battle that should, in all honesty, kill me.
The devil knows he doesn't have to use his own people to get me down. All the do-gooders make me want to go to his side and give up far worse than any of his people.
But here's the point.
It's not about the armies.
It's about the Masters.
Christ is not His people.
Christ is God.
God is love.
And God, by some miracle, loves and died and conquered death and rose again for what His followers regard as dangerous and evil.
And "she who has been forgiven much loveth much."
No matter what I lose. I will follow You.
For You are my God.
And I will praise You.
~Siân
What's inside that makes you wild?
What's the thing that they all see?
That evil twisted part of me.
Freaky face with mouth of lies -
Demon child with demon eyes.
"Don't defile God's handiwork!
Stop claiming that there's only mirk."
Am I really? How can I be
When that's all you claim to see in me?
Forget the fight to try for good.
Apparently that's only crud.
All you see is Demon child,
Perhaps it wakes all your 'defiled'.
I hate this twisted poetry.
It only comes out in agony.
But what do they care? They laugh and scorn -
Other hearts will bleed and mourn.
It's near impossible to tell
Who's from heaven with their echoes of hell.
Gossip-grieve, they bury the corpse
Of Demon child they killed with thoughts.
When sin is birthed, then it is death.
I was slain on their whispered breath.
Their 'loving concern' behind my back -
So like the Master, isn't that?
Forget the good - and who will be
The first to throw a stone at me?
Throw her back to the darkness - you'll see
Only Demon child inside of me.
The devil's near to claiming his prize -
She's overcome by Demon eyes.
In constant war you cannot see,
There's death that lives and life killed for me.
You don't care, but I am free.
I'm God's own child. He died for me.
I don't have logic or wisdom or words.
My head is stupid and my love is cursed.
But somehow, there's One Who lives for me.
I'm God's. I'm loved. I'm safe. I'm free.
I would have far greater power in the hands of evil than I ever can through belonging to Christ. Belonging to Christ means I must decrease and I am weak because I am fighting a battle that should, in all honesty, kill me.
The devil knows he doesn't have to use his own people to get me down. All the do-gooders make me want to go to his side and give up far worse than any of his people.
But here's the point.
It's not about the armies.
It's about the Masters.
Christ is not His people.
Christ is God.
God is love.
And God, by some miracle, loves and died and conquered death and rose again for what His followers regard as dangerous and evil.
And "she who has been forgiven much loveth much."
No matter what I lose. I will follow You.
For You are my God.
And I will praise You.
~Siân
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Thanks for sharing your thoughts. :)