Sacrilegious and unholy 
My hand continues 
To feverishly scrawl words 
I would never dream of speaking 
Onto scarred and bleeding parchment 
I am torn 
Between the kingdoms of Heaven and Hell 
Quartered by angels and demons 
My shredded flesh rests in heaps 
Pecked at by doves and crows alike 
My very soul is oppressed 
For this battle is far from over 
There is no devil on my shoulder 
For He has comfortably made 
His home inside of me 
Unsuccessful exorcisms 
Are attempted in vain 
For a tortured soul 
I remain 
I am but a vessel 
An extension of His blackened sway 
Imprisoned in my own mind 
Held at knifepoint and forced to transcribe 
His will 
His wicked word 
His will 
His wicked word 
I frantically whisper prayers to God 
When I find myself alone 
But the malicious one 
He will soon return 
He will soon return 
I frantically whisper prayers to God 
When I find myself alone 
But the malicious one 
He will soon return 
And I will meet punishment