Sober

Evil comes in many forms,

For us it sneaks in subtle storms,

Demons lie in wait for a gate,

Alcohol typically their favorite,

Consume and the desire starts to loom,

All once done creeps out seeking one,

They plead for sustenance sell our will,

Refuse and the plague begins to drill,

This hole so deep through the core,

Takes a saint to dismiss and ignore,

Or perhaps more common is our strength,

Most often overlooked to fall in rank,

Forge a path to abstain further glass,

Each battle won is a slow victory,

Everyday the demons speak wickedly,

Sacrifices demand succeed or life bland,

Like the peak of a song it always draws on,

At the height of it's nature it stems terror,

Wrought with deceit and always so clever,

It knows what buttons to push what levers to pull,

It lives deep inside suing for control,

And no matter how deep it creeps to surface,

Bends good will and throws into furnace,

To scream might help but it's probably worthless,

These demons feed off desperate excursions,

Raise their flag another night,

This war almost lost no hope is in sight,

Descend with the demon hold their hand,

Finally meet once dead just as they planned