The Devil May Say
By John Herlihy

He smiled,
And that soft smile was but preface,
To a feeling of prerogative,
Whose rights harbor nothing derogative;
For the accusation that he clung to his beliefs,
Suggesting he were but one in a band of thieves.
He only sought passage that was rightfully his,
Having no interest in unearned privileges.
He followed ancient, more traditional ways,
With virtue that dissipates all earthly haze.

He expected nothing from others, not even sympathy,
A habit of mind born at the time of his infancy.
Even if every cureless evil proved to be victorious,
He would hush all enemies, his heart still meritorious.
“I see your heart is hard,” the frustrated devil had said,
“With no chance of turning coarse flax into silky thread.”
Wounds suffered for the sake of conscience have a cure,
That no unholy advance in this world can fully ensure.
“The whole world will applaud you,” the devil did say,
He smiled one last time and went his separate way.