They had names.
Each one.
Not just one name, not just one face.
They came cloaked in titles,
in ancient whispers,
in fire, in shadow,
in wounds that smiled back at me.
Lucifer, they called the first—
light-bringer, son of the morning,
the one who fell
because he dared to rival the Most High.
Then came Satan—
the accuser,
who stood at the gates of my mind
and hurled every guilt I ever carried
back into my bloodstream.
Beelzebub, the lord of flies,
danced around rotting thoughts
and dead things I never buried.
Abaddon and Apollyon—
the destroyers—
they didn’t come with explosions.
No.
They came with silence.
With decay.
With the slow unraveling
of hope.
Belial, worthless and lawless,
he walked with men in suits,
hid in songs I used to love,
slipped into conversations
with sugar on his tongue.
Asmodeus,
he made lust a god,
he whispered,
"You deserve this."
And I believed him.
Legion—
yes, they were many.
They didn’t come in chains,
they came as comfort.
Leviathan, pride’s great serpent,
he told me I was above forgiveness,
above grace,
above needing help.
Baal, Molech, Chemosh—
those who took offerings of children,
not always by fire,
but by the slow neglect
of our own humanity.
Mammon, the god of greed,
he kissed my hands when I lied,
he smiled when I sold pieces of myself
for applause.
They all had names.
And they all knew mine.
But still—
they did not win.
Because another Name
entered the battlefield.
A name not of deception,
but of truth.
A name not of ruin,
but of restoration.
He came not with a whip,
but with wounds.
Not with accusation,
but with blood.
He did not speak like the others—
He wept.
He bled.
He broke bread with me
even when my hands
were still dripping
with betrayal.
He called me His.
Even when I only knew the names
of those who had destroyed me.
He is Yeshua,
Jesus,
Messiah,
The Lamb,
The Lion,
The Door,
The Way,
The Truth,
The Life.
He is the name above every name—
and in His name,
my demons lost their power.
One by one, they left.
Not by my strength—
but because He stood between me
and their claws.
So when they say,
“Hell is full,”
I say—
No.
Hell is empty.
Because they were all here.
But now,
they are gone.
And God lives in me.