The Plight of Lady Manic (a poem by Katie Dale)
“Listen,” she said. “Hear me,” she whispered.
Voices in her head validated what she heard.
Even with proven logic she was stirred,
The possibilities were too great to have deferred.
Tangible in spirit, angels gathered near,
And the devils followed them there, itching to hear.
The reality of the unseen wasn’t something to fear,
It was the lust for the untouchable hurdles she wanted to clear.
Lady Manic, she was known, to the shrewd and cunning Mister.
Sir Madness, her unmatched suitor, he wouldn’t resist her.
She played to his schemes, his subtle plans enthralled her.
Soon, according to Sir Madness, only he could call her.
Flirting with the master of irresistible temptations,
She laid open to twirling thoughts and tantalizing elations.
Like a phantom of her mind’s secret infatuations,
She succumbed to be found in questionable situations.
Once he lifted her too high, she panicked at the height,
She braved the quickening sensations amidst the fright.
At first glance it was glee in anyone’s unwitting sight,
Until it was too late to do anything but fall from the flight.
Perhaps she was naive, overzealous and of youth,
Perhaps he was too masterful for her mind to tell the truth.
Whichever way it was, it was now in hindsight error,
The affection they once shared was now a twisted terror.
Should she be prey to his next violent plan,
She couldn’t save herself, no one could, not any man.
The step after delight could be more than insanity,
The logical plan to follow was the bane of humanity:
Depths of loathing and sorrow crawled out from the pit of Hell,
In shrouds of darkness they came moaning, cleverly casted like a spell.
This misery appeared inevitable to keep her from her Lord’s Heaven,
It seemed the day turned into night without her knowing when.
For nights came for days and try as she might will then,
No amount of pulling by her bootstraps would let her go again.
Now the words fled her mind and mouth where joy once filled,
Meaning evaded her spirit, whose strength none could rebuild.
Confusion mounted its cavalry and crafted artillery from its guild,
Here the war on her psyche ambushed, her sanity, all but killed.
Abandoned by her guide to the skies and traitor to the pit,
She remembered her chance given before so again she sought it.
In the lion’s lair she knew who else had gone ahead,
The sacrifice that died to pay the ransom on her head.
She surged her strength to call upon the name of Him once dead,
“Give me my life, You paid my price, redeem my life instead!”
The only One who was there for her from birth swiftly came,
The test was passed and she could leave the dungeon of her shame.
Alas Sir Madness could not call on her, he had no viable claim,
Since all along she was betrothed to the Lord of Lords: Jesus, was His name.
Victory crowned Him, from overcoming Sir Madness and his lies,
Lady Manic was no longer known as Manic but as Wise.
The deception that once bewitched her could no longer rise,
Since she set her sights on nothing but her truthful Savior’s eyes.
“Listen,” she said. “Hear Him,” she whispered.
Voices left her head and love was all she heard.
The sound of her heart was true of the passion that was stirred,
Each beat was hope fulfilled and was no longer deferred.
