Demonic faces glaring at me,
by Bernard Shaw
Grimaces from troubled souls.
Why do they come? What do they see?
With their eyes like burning coals.
Have I offended Lucifer’s Hordes?
That they swarm from deepest Hell.
How can I cut these binding cords?
How can I break this damning spell?
Are they figures from my overwrought brain?
That come to me in my weakest hour?
Is that what one calls nervous strain?
Which turn my gastric juices sour.
I have never done anyone physical harm,
I was always gentle to the weak
I have tried to live my life with charm,
Trouble was the last thing for me to seek
So why do those demonic faces glare at me?
A peaceful man all of my life.
Is it something that only they can see?
Which wants them to cause me so much strife.