I lost a lot to the devil, but I never failed: A poem 

(The devil who is named: Victorious Light) 

The devil knows that due to him I lost not just a little 

But he can rue the fact that my soul was never brittle 

For thirty long years I abandoned the word (written) 

because my creativity would be ruthlessly, by him, bitten 

My grief and loss never showed up on the lashes of my eyes 

Bedeviled hues don’t make up the way my soul is dyed 

On my shadow, and all I adored, he staked his claim 

So, I just did without stamping anything with my name 

This loss is something about which I never complained 

It may be my loss, but it was the devil who deigned 

I didn’t submit to him even though I was perennially stalked 

My resoluteness was ingrained in me like a ferrous rock 

I always thought my losses were not my fault or failure 

If my earth was barren, I knew my soil still had allure 

I took pride in the pain, knowing sacrifice is never in vain 

The devil can’t deluge me with his out-of-season rains