The devil inside has power o’er me because it knows my name;
It badger’s me incessantly in a sport of wits & I’m game.
The devil inside is haughty blind & relishes my anguish.
He competes complete to drink my pain & in that lies his languish.
The devil inside gluts on my ruin; showing his thinnest hide.
So assured the gauntlet is his, while gorging hisself on my pride.
It’s here I strike & here I injure, catching the imp by surprise.
He rallies his wits & cuts me deep, these winning scars are my prize.
The devil inside exists in defeat his only strength my flaws…
Marks in my flesh by the devil himself back when he still had claws.
L.B.Stowe 