by Bruce E. Stoker © 2003
He lurks around the corners of my life,
And watches for the perfect times to strike
A blow, to shatter mind and soul alike,
To rend relationships with friends, my wife.
He counts on me to fear his crafted strife
That worms its way into my mind, snakelike,
Invoking doubts that lurk about, ghostlike,
Of sins, now past, with which my life was rife.
Although he skulks about, he has been caught.
And though his plots still catch me off my guard,
I know the accusations he may bring
Cannot rescind the offer of reward
That God has promised when His love is sought.
The menace fails when to God’s grace I cling.