Apr 2013
Sometime ago, years as it would seem
I saw the devil in my room
He was sitting there in the corner watching me
And I didn’t know why
He sat with pus-filled eyes and patchy skin
He sat naked holding a can of black spray paint
I was nine
It felt like it could have happened yesterday
But it was some time ago, years as it would seem
Since the devil visited me and it wasn’t a dream
He didn’t talk to me; he remained still and quiet
I was afraid but then I wasn’t
I went to bed and he tucked me in
And I didn’t know why
He placed his fingers to my lips, gesturing to be silent
I obeyed and watched as he walked to my door quietly
It was 9pm
But it felt much later in the night
When the Devil paid me a visit in my home
Killing my family and leaving to roam.
Before he left he showed me my mother, on the ground
My father in the bath
My sisters, in pieces in the sink
And told me to embrace the moment
“You never knew it, but these people didn’t love you”
He told me soothingly, “They wanted to hurt you”
It was December 9th
But it felt like October, as he sprayed the number on the walls
“Are you the devil I asked?” Tears ran down my eyes.
“Yes.” He said, “I’m your liberator.” He advised.
I never saw the Devil like that again.
I left my house and told the neighbors.
And the police came and took me away
I never said goodbye to those who raised me
I was raised by an uncle until I was eighteen
Then I left to become more than what I was
I had always wondered if I would see the Devil again
I was 19
When I vowed to find him, the liberator and murderer
I would take him back to hell and back even further
Years later, now in adulthood
I long to search for the Devil again
The same devil who paid me a visit when I was a boy
The same that liberated me through false hope
Years under training, through police cadet then detective
I stumbled through the underground of vigilance
The underbelly of corruption and deception
It was 2009
I had seen the darker side of people: the slaughters, poisons and infant killers
The victims of **** and molestation, the beatings and thieving distillers
From one clue to the next I found
Families murdered, but with one member still alive
Whether a boy or a girl.
To lay witness to the acts willed by the one
A pattern was laid and I followed it accordingly
I was hot on the trail, chasing records in asylums
Convicted kidnappings, victims’ confessions
I was 29
A 911 called was patched, describing a man breaking into a house; it was him
I took the call and hurried to the address, to stop the lights from going dim.
I drove to the inner city, an unknown borough
And was surprised to find the address I received was to a closed down church
A Catholic cathedral, condemned and left to dust
But I saw lights inside and broke through the doors
The church was old and dark; cold without spark
The lights came from the Altar, where sacrifice was offered
It was 9pm
There I saw the Devil in the flesh, with a little child
And his appearance was the same as I remembered but more wild
He outspread his arms and welcomed me to his home.
All around him red candles were set ablaze
My heart sunk and drifted in fear
My skin sweated from the sweltering heat I revered
“Why have you done this!?” I yelled, “All this time?”
He smiled and wiped the yellow tears from his eyes
9 children
Walked out from the altar, carrying pitchers of unknown liquid.
I was silently subdued by what was unexpected and wicked
The door slammed shut behind me. The stone figures of angels moved
They crawled from the stone and moaned; touching themselves
They encircled me. They grabbed hold of me
“Why?” I cried, asking the devil who approached me.
“I liberated you from a life without truth.” He said
“I showed you the reality of God’s domain.” He told me. I was left weak
“Why nine?” I asked
I asked again. “Why nine children, the nine liberalizations and family deaths?”
“Because you were led astray” He said, “Was is it 9 or is a 6?” he whispered under his breath.
I looked down and indeed there were only six children.
Along with three demons.
Laughing and dancing as the church was consumed
In a blazing fire in the night of the devil.
The six children poured the pitchers down on the ground.
“You will bathe in the blood of their families and burn in this fire.” The devil said
9 minutes
I felt the the fire and the collective blood engulf my body whole
My skin burned and crisped. Everything burned including my soul
Once again I was released from a world of pain
Both accounts were not of my consent
And only one I agreed with
Save the moment I met the devil
It was many years ago when it all happened
My family butchered, the number nine sprayed on the wall
I was 9 years old
But then again maybe I was 6. And the Devil was me; a desire to ****
The demons were my guilt and I took my own life to stop the thrill
But it was some time ago, years as it would seem
Since the devil visited me and it wasn’t a dream
I saw the devil in my room
He was sitting there in the corner watching me
And I didn’t know why
He sat with pus-filled eyes and patchy skin
He sat naked holding a can of black spray paint
I was nine
It felt like it could have happened yesterday
But it was some time ago, years as it would seem
Since the devil visited me and it wasn’t a dream
He didn’t talk to me; he remained still and quiet
I was afraid but then I wasn’t
I went to bed and he tucked me in
And I didn’t know why
He placed his fingers to my lips, gesturing to be silent
I obeyed and watched as he walked to my door quietly
It was 9pm
But it felt much later in the night
When the Devil paid me a visit in my home
Killing my family and leaving to roam.
Before he left he showed me my mother, on the ground
My father in the bath
My sisters, in pieces in the sink
And told me to embrace the moment
“You never knew it, but these people didn’t love you”
He told me soothingly, “They wanted to hurt you”
It was December 9th
But it felt like October, as he sprayed the number on the walls
“Are you the devil I asked?” Tears ran down my eyes.
“Yes.” He said, “I’m your liberator.” He advised.
I never saw the Devil like that again.
I left my house and told the neighbors.
And the police came and took me away
I never said goodbye to those who raised me
I was raised by an uncle until I was eighteen
Then I left to become more than what I was
I had always wondered if I would see the Devil again
I was 19
When I vowed to find him, the liberator and murderer
I would take him back to hell and back even further
Years later, now in adulthood
I long to search for the Devil again
The same devil who paid me a visit when I was a boy
The same that liberated me through false hope
Years under training, through police cadet then detective
I stumbled through the underground of vigilance
The underbelly of corruption and deception
It was 2009
I had seen the darker side of people: the slaughters, poisons and infant killers
The victims of **** and molestation, the beatings and thieving distillers
From one clue to the next I found
Families murdered, but with one member still alive
Whether a boy or a girl.
To lay witness to the acts willed by the one
A pattern was laid and I followed it accordingly
I was hot on the trail, chasing records in asylums
Convicted kidnappings, victims’ confessions
I was 29
A 911 called was patched, describing a man breaking into a house; it was him
I took the call and hurried to the address, to stop the lights from going dim.
I drove to the inner city, an unknown borough
And was surprised to find the address I received was to a closed down church
A Catholic cathedral, condemned and left to dust
But I saw lights inside and broke through the doors
The church was old and dark; cold without spark
The lights came from the Altar, where sacrifice was offered
It was 9pm
There I saw the Devil in the flesh, with a little child
And his appearance was the same as I remembered but more wild
He outspread his arms and welcomed me to his home.
All around him red candles were set ablaze
My heart sunk and drifted in fear
My skin sweated from the sweltering heat I revered
“Why have you done this!?” I yelled, “All this time?”
He smiled and wiped the yellow tears from his eyes
9 children
Walked out from the altar, carrying pitchers of unknown liquid.
I was silently subdued by what was unexpected and wicked
The door slammed shut behind me. The stone figures of angels moved
They crawled from the stone and moaned; touching themselves
They encircled me. They grabbed hold of me
“Why?” I cried, asking the devil who approached me.
“I liberated you from a life without truth.” He said
“I showed you the reality of God’s domain.” He told me. I was left weak
“Why nine?” I asked
I asked again. “Why nine children, the nine liberalizations and family deaths?”
“Because you were led astray” He said, “Was is it 9 or is a 6?” he whispered under his breath.
I looked down and indeed there were only six children.
Along with three demons.
Laughing and dancing as the church was consumed
In a blazing fire in the night of the devil.
The six children poured the pitchers down on the ground.
“You will bathe in the blood of their families and burn in this fire.” The devil said
9 minutes
I felt the the fire and the collective blood engulf my body whole
My skin burned and crisped. Everything burned including my soul
Once again I was released from a world of pain
Both accounts were not of my consent
And only one I agreed with
Save the moment I met the devil
It was many years ago when it all happened
My family butchered, the number nine sprayed on the wall
I was 9 years old
But then again maybe I was 6. And the Devil was me; a desire to ****
The demons were my guilt and I took my own life to stop the thrill
But it was some time ago, years as it would seem
Since the devil visited me and it wasn’t a dream
