Arrow Rock Literary Journal

My friend, my friend, I wish you well
Taking upon yourself this journey
Yet I offer you guidance to steer you from hell
Falling ill to the devil’s attorney

For what you face is not a fiend
But a ruthless, cunning trickster
The truth itself you seek must be gleaned
Lest you be caught in the mixer

He’ll smile like a summer friend,
But winter will be his aim
He’ll take your inner peace to rend
And leave you wrought with blame

For he steals no gold, nor shelter, nor bread
He deals in joy instead
He’ll whisper doubts until you’re dead
And plant thorns inside your head

So steel your heart in the darkest of night
And guard what makes you whole
For the trickster is the true blight of your world
The Devil has sent him to steal your soul

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Ian Rashleigh is the author of this piece.