Secret Hands

I am Jack’s secret hands
the ones he controls with his mesmerizing powers,
making me obey
all the righteous desires of his hidden thoughts.

How I weaken at times and crave a release
from being his prisoner of night,
cursed to stroll alleys and black haunts
where naked and needy hearts
grope for a taste of freedom,
which will end their rotting decay in identity
leaving them hollow and vacant,
slaves to the inevitable minions of evil
whose vile tentacles strangle so many lives.

By the command of his divine spellbound voice
do I bring this suffering creatures
a chance of salvation.
With use of that sacred razor for a holy sacrifice
given to me as an anointed messenger
in order that I might set free
those he calls upon me to deliver from their agony.

Slowly have I learned to see the truth,
let the light he showed into my mind
finally shine the wisdom over my doubts
letting it burn away any sense of guilt
over the bloody ministry that he makes me serve.

What silent vigil I must follow
bearing the pain from knowing
that Jack’s gifts of invisibility
prevent anyone else from seeing his glory,
making sure that room he used as his lair
appears as empty
whenever I try to show another his presence.

Enduring the fate of suffering from wicked therapist
who tried to persuade me this reality is a delusions,
mercifully have I quieted their skepticism
so happy they now know eternal liberty from this life’s delusions.