Praying for a compromise

Why can’t the devil on my shoulder
and my Angel on my back come to a compromise?
It’s impossible to notice, but the exhaustion from the constant battle
has the ability to paralyze.

I continuously feel alone and drained,
If my self conscious were a bone it would be sprained.

I long for a day when good and evil find a middle ground,
Maybe then I’ll be able to sleep soundly.