"Marred Hands (to the devil)" {an original poem}

(written July 23rd, 2014 - almost exactly a year ago)

Ink-smudged hands betray me
Proof that I'm still fighting
My thoughts can be rambunctious
I don't quite know where I am

I'm a finger puppet
Keep forgetting my lines
I can't seem to stop it
Mimicking roles not my own

I want out of the gray
To stark lines of paper
Where I have found a way
To stitch together my thoughts

With a black pen as thread
Here I can find my voice
Preaching inside my head
Odd, how now they all listen

So observe my stained hands
Tremble at what you know
Who you know that I am
"What has her pen done this time?"

 I underline the Scriptures
Claiming promises as mine
I pray to the Creator
Writing His words next to my own

I make art through the pain
Writing poems, sketching
Proof that I still remain
You have not defeated me

My God sees the darkness
As I view blank paper
He readies His brushes
And paints with His light and grace

His hands are twice as marred
My name carved on His palm
Near the beautiful scars
From the nails He took for me

You thought you'd won then, too
With the death of our hope
I guess no one warned you
Of strength found in our stained hands

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