Coiled within

Coiled within

I often fool myself that I know the human heart, such conceit there is in me,
Deep, dark, filled also with light, perhaps at war, is what is found, when peeked,
Something is coiled deep with my own depths, something I wish was not there,
Still it is, resides, often at rest if not sleeping.........waiting for its call, to uncoil and rampage forth.

How easy is hate to feel, seductive in its reasoning, contempt poured out on the despised,
It hits me suddenly when I am most unaware, slinking up with fangs, long pointed, ready,
Seeking expression from the built up pressure seeking release, so elemental is it, so deep,
Something necessary, how else can evil be fought, yet so easy to misuse, causing pain.

Yes my heart has darkness enough to keep me vigilant, ever watchful for its upsurge,
Irrational often in its core, reptilian it its coldness, wanton it how it wants to express,
Fueled by self contempt, though not its only source, enough to cause havoc on its own.
Lost in the collective it can sink into the mob, religion, tribe, political party, it matters not.

I fall and stagger from the pain it engenders, its fruit poison deadly to taste,
The soul consumed until my humanity is no more, only a ravaging beast hungry,
No conscience, no love, only contempt giving a demonic freedom from restraint,
Heady, self righteous in its heart, sowing pain and destruction for those outside.

My heart is shattered and I fall to my knees, head in hand I cry out to the Lord,
Like a pit bull it has me by the neck, shaking me asunder until I cannot think,
I pray for light, for the infinite to heal me, its presence to heal my consuming darkness,
I wrestle and sink choking in blackness, then light comes and shows me the way.

My struggle is not unique but common to all; the violence is growing in the world.
Commanded to love, for the struggle is intense, the very desire holds one aloft,
Below the black ocean surges hungry for more, yet upheld by grace I moan,
What is to become of us Lord, the violence is growing, hatred the norm or so it seems.

Yet I know there is also love and goodness, unnoticed in its unassuming ways,
The seed is planted in every heart, the antidote to the coiled one within,
True freedom not yet, so conflict within the road traveled, until freedom reached,
Seeing the divine in ones enemy the goal, for God loves dwells within all.

It seems impossible but grace is just that, given when undeserved, healing balm,
Mercy given to those undeserving, a gift, free, who can fathom it at all.
Lip service is given but only clichés, those who speak often just parroting,
Not yet challenged by what lies in wait within, coiled, fangs ready to strike.