Talk with the devil

When you see weakness,
the weakness in man that makes you believe that your power can move our mountain minds
and displace our hearts from thoughts of their wondrous wondering divides.
You will approach us.
You will approach us like a thief, sly Duval and announce your lack of morals.
With blow horn in check to round us in
and the stamp of hell to prove your dominance.
But then you’ll see true weakness,
you’ll know true weakness is you.
That true evil is the myth called you,
and you alone are mythical, Diablo.
You’ll know what he veiled at last.
Man is always born pious or skeptic,
but you’ll get to pick the latter
and not by might or power.
He’ll take his time and pick his best and you get default for being Dubious.
So I say to you, dear brother.
Brother mine don’t laud your power,
its meagre and little and shameful
for you are just a guardian.
To the damned souls who wandered,
wandered away from father.


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I am me. I am Me. I write when I want to be free.

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