Remember the wish in The Angel Song
The gifted wish I haven’t used all along,
Shielded from the tempestuous calm,
For wounds aching, as magic balm.
But, words fly quick and high,
Reached the Satan in a sly,
He came down heavy on my door,
To snatch away the wish I bore.
Cornering me in my room alone,
He thundered for the wish I own.
Felt weak, but won’t bend my knees,
I, on empty roars such as these.
Meekness evident in His deadly vice,
He challenged me to a game of dice.
The aces, deuces and cinques clashed,
Blood and pride waiting to be smashed.
As the gruelling feud raged on forth,
I, tired, bloodied; but all that’s worth!
It’s pride in my wish - that’s to prove
I knocked Him down in the final move.
Drained, void, slumped on the floor thud,
I, passed out soaked in sweat and blood,
-But I won! Oh! Of that I am sure-
as I embraced the wish pure.