The devil is near,
and he is waiting to collect a soul.
He is searching for something
young, vulnerable.
He crouches in these woods,
Spreads himself on this tree –
waiting.
He has been here before,
Curled as a serpent,
Lurking –
temping Eve to touch the glorious fruit.
He has been here before,
A voice in the wind:
“You know you want to.”
And again
He is always right.
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