Kindly Letter From Old Nick

No, I’m not really here, but only an illusion whispering in your ear;
And the fear you feel and the tears it brings does not ring from me;
Oh my dear, you know better than to think I really exist and persist
In such Medieval chicanery, throwing thick drapery over your mind
To explain some vagary in apery of monks and priests of olden lore;
You, my dear, have more to offer in sane explanation of aberrations
That haunt your soiled psyche and taunt your heart, tearing it apart;
Talk to some psychologist or doctor, psychiatrist or psychic proctor,
But please don’t think I am real, or that I am here to steal your soul;
Do not believe the naive tales told of old, which only serve to grieve;
Leave them all behind with all the other kind of unscientific rubbish!

Sincerely,

Old Nick

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