• A repeating echo of a thought rebounding off the walls of my skull,
    Circling and picking at my brain like a vulture, causing a great disturbance.
    It twists around and bends in half every statement that I make,
    As if my logic is feeble and needs to be reshaped into demeaning ideas.
    This voice cannot be my own, nor can it be my Savior’s;
    I do not despise myself so much as to think these things,
    And He does not speak in a rebuking, accusing tone.
    So this echo, this heartless stream of words, must be set by the Wicked One,
    His wish being to tear me up from the inside and pull me away from God.
    But it shall not work, and will not do; my will is my own, and I refuse to put myself down.
    So I shall shun these disturbing thoughts and whisk them away to the corners of my mind where they will be forgotten for the remainder of time.
    Do not call me a fool for not taking the criticism that is handed to me;
    Because this form of critique is not helpful, it is hurtful and depressing.
    So let there be Light, and may it shrivel up the Darkness;
    My brain will be free of this vulture, and I will sink no lower into doubt.