Birds

My friend, I know he wants
your mind, he wants your
heart and the blood in your
viens, and he wants your hands
and your feet, your drive and
your will. He wants you to
bend to his darkness,
collapse under the weight
of the sin that he reminds you
of constantly, replaying
behind your eyes like a movie,
clear and detailed, he whispers
your thoughts, the ones you
suppress, but he knows, oh
he knows. And my friend,
I need you to see that he's
driving you into the cave
of your own head, isolating
you from the life that you have,
and magnifying your every fault,
shaming you for your humanity,
your unavoidable imperfection
and pulling you away from every
good and wonderful thing you
ever cherished, he's stealing
your joy, and selling you lies.

My friend, how much more
do you pray?