a devil told me
"you don't know God"
I told that devil
"you speak the truth"
why do I believe then?
perhaps I'm too afraid not to
I heard things
I will not repeat
I felt something I cannot
put a finger on
I experience
inner workings
outward pouring
from the hand that feeds me
I know not the face
I diligently seek
but it's the grace I know
implicitly