To the Prodigal Son at the Masquerade Ball

My pride systems, my demons, my chattering voices

The webs they spin and the “perfect” masks they craft

So that the true light cannot come out

The light that they didn’t understand

Oh, how wicked we are to ourselves!

Throwing ourselves into the darkness

And as my vision is darkened with my pride

I can no longer see You

I wonder in those moments if You still see me?

But in the end…

The eyes of the Devil and the eyes of God are one.

What a Devil God can be!

And what a God the Devil can be!

They need only to meet each other

And form that holy understanding

The Devil rips off his heavy mask!

God steps back out of the darkness

To find Himself waiting with open arms

Welcome back, Prodigal Son!

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