my torment

Here, alone, I sit within,
A multitude of mortal sins,
Whose tendrils probe my darkest fear,
Taunting me with truth or dare,
The guilt of deeds of terror told,
Amid the shadows, dark, and cold,
Whose stealth crept upon the slain,
To lay them down where they remain.

Yet still he taunts me with unrest,
His Demon form, infernal pest,
Has humbled me to servitude,
My obedience, as understood,
To do his will, no questions asked,
No clemency from the task,
That burdens me with morbid shame,
Of deeds done in his name.

The hammer hits with deafening thud,
The metal clasps that hold the wood,
That stand high above the ground,
A gallows raised to please a crowd,
Who jeer and cheer their hatred's scorn,
All through the night, no sleep till morn,
When sleep must surely come with Death,
And a rasp of final breath.

Yet still he torments me with jest,
To brand me with the Devil's crest,
That I, my guilt, cannot renege,
The covenant with Satan made,
My world goes dark behind the hood,
As the preacher reads from Holy book,
A word of prayer to Heaven sent,
To relieve me from my torment!