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They were buried things
Sad and sacramental, pressing for a hymn to vanquish pain
They were funny things, quirky things, afraid and big and strange
But she could bear her multitudes, and she could keep them in
So what about her downfall was the sin?
She was hushing them like children, singing ancient lullabies
They blew to cool her blushing over rabbi’s song through countryside
Holy men should wield a force as great as all the hell they’d known
Still, they’d whisper, she was more, for she had never been alone
And haunts to haunt would cling, so starting with a few meant growing
Vaster than the wisest king
She went by their command to hear the gospel of the high, high man –
Thinking love were ruin’s match, or match to horde should stand to know the hell she bore
Then might he understand just what she’d wedded all the force of fire for?
Heaven’s prince of curly hair, he held her there
His word proclaiming gloating roads through Legion’s lair
She thought, not once before had any man let her confess that great unclean
For who would dare to ask and risk the wrath of unmasked fiends?
Just he, who swore that man to only man held fealty
Just he, who by the grace of salty hands began the rites she’d come to see
She took to heart that virtue first that every preacher needs
Faith a phantom making stronger demons flee
And she who shuddered, like in prayer, concede each fear to dream
Day devolved to dark and wild-eyed her savior stood
His holy hands raised high, all set to strike her clean and good
But she wondered with a start – had she ever planned
To sit and watch the last of all her host be damned?
“Hells no!” She cried, and ran – “I’ve taken all the exorcise I can!”
He screamed, “We haven’t finished yet! They’ll come for you again!”
“And pray,” They laughed, “That each outcast return with seven friends!”
Devils she knew laid claim on her
She’d rather than mercy would stay
For every stupid victim splits her losses anyway
So what if they had entered her against her will?
They paid their rent – their strength was her strength still
She could speak in tongues and see through lies just like the saints
She could handle snakes, and she could banish swine
She’d never tried but
Maybe she could even make that water into wine
Oh they were daunting things, haunting things
Sure, and hers to sling
So she was rocking them awake, almost glad to see them grow
Thinking, all the world have demons
But only magi know
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