The Battle I feel his presence dwelling within, His heart filled with hatred, his mind filled with sin. He is waiting for his turn, his time to begin, He is as brutal as a cyclone, as dry as gin. He begs to be let out, tormenting from under my skin, Taunting as he tells me "this time, let the games begin" But for now all he could do is grin. but sooner or later he will win. DLB