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Am I to say
you’ve got sympathy now
for the devil
Nothing good can come
from what he promised you
but endless sorrow
Good things come
to those who wait
but not for those
who follow
to sell your soul
for all the gold
the world can hold
is a bad trade
w a i t i n g . .
for moments come then fade
into nescience stark
as demons fly
and angels cry
t e a r s
not even of this
wretchedness rained down
to stain in rust
then
fade to brown
the scorchëd earth
b u r n s . . !
outside
my darkened window to the world
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