The oft-recited prayer deliver us from evil,
Desiderata's go placidly,
even Kristofferson's help me make it through the night,
we clutch at phrases like these for comfort,
hoping all bad things will just go away,
knowing that evil, like rust, never sleeps,
eating away at hearts and souls.
We whisper mantras and light candles,
wade upstream in a never-ending tidal-rush
of 24/7 demons doing what they do,
making every effort to drown good spirits,
spirits that might be wounded or suffocated,
but never extinguished. Never extinguished.
Spirits that respond to sweet kisses of life,
always ready for triumph, revival, for a rising.