He's Trying to Kill Me

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Ooo wee!!!
He's trying to kill me.

He's fought my heart.
He's fought my mind.
He floods my conscious... with thoughts other than divine.
He uses his dominions...
Imps of all kinds.

Spiritual demons, invisible to the eye,
But it's the soul that they wish to touch.
It's not by my strength that I'm lifted.
It's the Lord that keeps me up.
Up in this fight against the devil and his evil steed.
Chasing my perseverance,
causing my soul to bleed.

Bleed... lyrics of pain,
lyrics of love,
poetical prose,
and all the other depressive adjectives that you can think of.

For a writer.

Yet, here I am.
Here I stand.
Descendant of Ishmael, Isaac...a seed of Abraham.
Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil 'alamin.
It's by the blood of Jesus the Christ that I am kept clean.

Yet, the fight continues.
Each blow he throws he thinks is the coup de grâce.
But, the Lord abounds me, His angels surround me.
With His righteous right hand He lifts me.
Masha Allah!
I praise Him with hands uplifted... I stand.
Muslim... Christian?
He tries to divide me.
Child of God is what I am.

The battle is so difficult, you see,
because he knows too.
He's done peeked into my future,
trying to affect my present,
because in the past the Lord has pulled me through.

Whoooo.

He's trying to kill me.

But you see, that gives me hope.
That means I'm a threat.
That means my life has a purpose.
And that God isn't done with me yet.
There isn't anything that He wtrould allow me to endure...
that He won't enable me to go through.
I know it feels like an ongoing battle, but Jesus already won the fight.
Claiming the victory is the only thing that I have to do.
So, in hell, there's a gnashing and grinding of teeth.
A plethora of jinns, failures, because their mission couldn't be complete.
Their mission to steal my inheritance
And render my soul to eternal sleep.

That's why...

He's trying to kill me.


~Flowriter