This poem was somewhat inspired by the big news of the last couple of days. Perhaps you can see tints of it in these two short stanzas.
The voice of Satan whispers low,
That we are nothing, without worth;
Then yells, berates, with verbal blow,
That none have loved us from our birth.
The voice of God speaks strong and clear:
A special place we occupy,
Each one, in God's heart is dear:
The pain is his each time we die.