I’m attempting to know evil,
To understand and speak on its ways,
But like a well-meaning incantation I wonder,
If this may go all wrong,
Should I face evil
Will I wither in its presence,
Or stand steadfast with resolve?
Will I even know how to identify it?
Will it act coy and deceive with best intentions?
Will it proclaim it’s evil ways,
As comic characters do,
With long drawn out monologues?
I suspect evil is not so easy to be cornered,
That it hides just out of the corner of one’s eye,
Until it has usurped one’s vision,
It is ordinary
Until it is not,
Until it is something initially unimaginable,
Yet creation of this very world,
It is camouflaged,
And of various types,
Of natural and moral operation,
It is human in creation and, or at least in perception,
Evil is the lived unholy,
The antithesis of the ambrosia that is good,
It is terrifying in its presence,
And yet it has a worthy rival opponent in that very good,
That just like evil can be conjured by the force of will,
Of need and drive for a restoration of a healthy equilibrium,
The need and drive to see good prevail,
For evil is an ulcerative sore that can only venture to consume, consume, and consume itself, without a counter balance,
It is disheartening in its presence,
It is weakening in belief,
And yet with faith
There is a force possible to face it,
Faith in the possibility,
In the power,
In the continuance of good,
That which restores hope,
Which reignites will and belief
In the ability for good to face its opposition,
Evil seeks to weaken
With relentless pressure of that which is bad
Upon our lives,
It is oppressive,
A weight of negativity,
And yet,
It is in darkest night that the stars of hope shine brightest.
Evil is a reality,
And yet,
And yet,
We cannot let evil cloud the hope
that shall always remain in the possibility of good.