My deal with the devil

With a deafening thunder
and blinding bolt of lightning,
Amidst the swirling clouds
of dark ominous smoke,
Suddenly he appeared
smack in front of me--
A most hideous being
who appeared neither
human nor a beast.

With a swift sleight of hand,
Before I could even cry out…
       “Stop it. Oh God, please stop…”
He plucked my heart out
and held it in his hairy filthy hand.

Oh, why he has to take it out?
My only possession, my only wealth,
The only thing that beat against
my frail, worn-out chest,
assuring its constant company
in this lonely journey of my life.

But heedless of my pleadings,
He tossed my heart into the gutter
with a gut-wrenching laugh.

I asked this foul fiend,
      “Who art thou?
       Why did thou taketh my heart away?”

With a guttural voice he spoke thus,

      “I am the devil; The Lord of Hell,
       I am the impetus that steers
       the course of affairs in this world,
       With me on your side
       you'll get the most out of a strife.
       With Adam, the first man,
       I came hither and residing since.
       An ardent companion of those
       who coveteth glory in life.”

He leaned forward
and with his blazing eyes
peered into mine,
Spitting foul breath
into my face, he sneered:
 
      “But this heart,
       Ha, this heart is a hindrance,
       A barrier, the core of love and humility
      where you feel the joys and woes of life.
      Nah, there's no need for it,
      Not in this world
      where the mind reigns supreme,
      Not in this age
      where vices prevail unrestrained--
      The age of decadence, Kaliyuga!*”

He half turned to go
then paused
Turned back and looked at me;

Never have I seen
such a heavenly sight,
Now transformed into an angel,
He extended gracefully
his milky-white delicate hand
and whispered softly
on the breath of a zephyr:

     “Give me thy soul...
      And I will give thee this world!”

 

*(KALI-YUGA- Age of vice, is the last of four stages the world goes through as part of the cycle of
yugas (ages) described in the Sanskrit Scriptures— an era of decay in values and the consequent havoc.)


Comments

Mohamed Sarfan's picture
Dear Poeter, Man is different by thoughts. Some people think to sleep on thorns; Still others think of living on flowers. Desire in life makes man fight like a stone in a mirror. Among the billions of people who have forgotten death by relying on illusions, some hearts breathe as the Lord expects. This poem makes me think with loot. Write More Congratulations

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