The Exorcist a Battle Against the Dark Poem

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A tale of terror, a story grim,
Of a soul possessed, a battle within,
A battle fought, 'twixt good and evil,
A force malevolent, vile and primeval.
A young girl, once pure and bright,
Now tormented by an unholy might,
Her body writhing, her voice not her own,
As darkness claimed her, to the bone.
Her family, desperate and afraid,
Turned to a priest, a man of faith displayed,
To face the demon, with prayers and rites,
To banish the darkness, and restore the light.
The exorcist, a battle-hardened soul,
Faced the demon, with courage and role,
Armed with faith, and ancient lore,
He fought the evil, to the very core.
The possessed girl, twisted and contorted,
Her voice a growl, her eyes distorted,
A battle waged, both fierce and dire,
As good and evil clashed in holy fire.
The demon taunted, with voices cruel,
But the exorcist stood firm, his faith a tool,
With prayers and blessings, he cast the foe,
Chanting scriptures, to deal the blow.
The battle raged, through the night,
With the forces of darkness, craving to incite,
But the exorcist fought, unwavering and strong,
Against the evil, that did not belong.
In the end, the demon fled,
Its hold on the girl, finally dead,
But scars remained, of the haunting past,
A battle won, but with memories cast.
"The Exorcist," a tale of dread,
Of a battle fought, with demons widespread,
Of faith and courage, against the dark,
A story that leaves its indelible mark.