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Cadmus May 20
They laughed when he showed up
with a résumé in hand.
Tail tucked, horns sanded down,
wore a tie, shook hands.

“I used to tempt kings,
whispered wars into ears.
Now I scroll headlines
and choke back tears.”

He tried marketing
but humans were better
at selling lies with smiling teeth
and discount codes for sin.

He applied for politics
but found the position filled
by those who make devils
blush in admiration.

Tried tech
but algorithms already knew
how to addict, divide,
and hollow out souls
with precision.

Even in war,
they no longer need whispers.
They bomb hospitals
and call it strategy.
He offered corruption.
They offered quarterly targets.

“They don’t need me anymore,”
he sighed to the clerk.
“They’ve mastered the craft.
I was just a spark
They made it an industry.”

Now he wanders,
CV in flames,
hoping someone will want
a washed-up fallen angel
who simply can’t compete
with modern man.
This poem uses satire to explore the depths of human moral decay, flipping the traditional narrative of evil. Once feared, Satan is now obsolete, as humanity’s capacity for cruelty, manipulation, and greed has far surpassed mythic malevolence.
Broken wings of anger
Spirit covered with hate
Burning eyes slain with curses
His harp that once sounded with praises
Vanished and moaning in pain

Paint vanity while grieving
Burning the flesh with his own
The moon freezes with his voice
Remembering the night of his fall
When faceless god saw him and call

I shall give you the world
The weakness of my mortals
With fear and pain savor their flesh
Succumb their crafts to rest

Scorching fire curtains the tears
Oh his silent tears
The sacrifice of losing home
Follow the hands who made your soul
Let go of the will act the scroll
His heart was breaking when he look his fall
When faceless go saw him and call

I shall give you the hands
To punish and bend
Disguise beauty, seal despair
Lead my picturesque destruction
Till they seek my heavenly salvation

Sitting and listening
His harp sounding light
He knew echoed footsteps call
Faceless god would vanish his soul
The blessed night of his fall....
2010
Ylzm Nov 2024
Son of Dragon, born of Woman
Free to roam, in kings' ears whispering
Mighty kingdoms thus rose, and fell
But Son of Man, exiled and chained

In wisdom Dragon saw his end
His arm in might deceived to save
Corrupted the seed to remain
One King over all men on earth

Thus all flesh drowned yet his seed lives
For seed to father not of flesh
And Dragon in Abyss' depths bound
Awaits the End for Man's judgement

Son of Dragon, wise as father
Knowing Man as he knows himself
His kingdom from his kingdom rose
From ashes yet again to ashes

His eighth and last kingdom now reigns
Over all earth but least glorious
A constant decline from the first
This last an unseen mired wreck

Son of Dragon wise but not wise
As creature imperfect and flawed
All men bow but his kingdom falls
Against He who binds his father

Son of Man, weak but he's to rule
From dungeon's depths raised above kings
For his Father's sceptre he holds
And upon the dragon he rides

When kingdom by Man ruled as right
Gold's free and peace its currency
Without wars nor bribes kings subdued
A glimpse of that ordained to be

Son of Dragon schemes as End nears
Tempts Man he's now King of all earth
And stars bow and all heavens too
And Sons as brothers reign in Peace

The Dragon's Year, this year has come
Son of Man hears Son of Dragon
Peace tempts, and brothers sit to rule
And Mother's name is Babylon
MetaVerse Aug 2024
$

$ummer Apple tree$:
iPhone$ ripen in the $un—
Fir$tfruit$ of knowledge.

Savio Fonseca Oct 2023
I'm hiding Myself,
behind this curtain of 'Rain'.
My Life, has committed Sins
and I'm now, feeling the Pain.
I'm tired of listening,
to the sound of My Tears.
They've been falling and falling,
for way too many Years.
Finally, I reached to God.
With both My Hands Folded.
He kept counting, My Sins
and in the end, had Me Scolded.
Satan stopped counting My Sins,
as they never seem to End.
He pushed a note down My Door,
"No place Here, for U My Friend"
Ken Pepiton Aug 2023
I am boasting of knowing something about Pergamum,
and the altar from there, that is now in Berlin,
and the library that was in that city, where as one
of the cities linked to the Satan of Revelation,...
------
Inserting myself, the meat minded man, qwerty guy,
I am not alone in thinking these are unprecedented
times to be alive and literally reading defined and
cross translatable buzz words that trigger points,
like bullets, but
itchy, or spark, cringe, sometimes, ew, feel
where
whose pain? Yeh we know, now, Iyobe, he talked back,
wisdom has no problem with that, ask James, 3:17,

powerful truth, I used to escape an infamous cult,
in the summer of 1985, which happens to be
the last time I saw Wendell Havatone, Sr. alive,
that 4th of July, in 1985.

The part of friends who approach laughing, every time
you remember a friend, that's the spirit, we share.

Just true, no wu wu doctrine ritual walk, you live
long enough, you know.
…………….

...I am not defining sorrow,
I am not sorrowful, nor sorry.

I am ordinarily silent,
my fingers speak more e-loquaciously
than my lips, yet saying
thus saith the tyrant in my mind, guy in charge,
boss, saith, accept the cast and acknowledge
reception, then be not deceived, no tool in the bag
is non essential,

to be excited about life, become excited about dying,
right, with chutz pah - ummpapa,

steady increase in the overall confusion, mixing material
substances to invoke reversion to the common thread,

the survivor animus, she prima donna, mother superior, Y-
certainly we understand the taste in the white of the egg,

-wait, I'll check.

Shad-dah' ee, the Almighty, all powerful, all schadenfreudlich
Dada's still art
you are the other people, too.

- laugh after you know, you knew, secrets
- heart felt truths we treasure as children,
- wishing some one really dead, as seen on TV.
- Ow, intended for adult audiences, greasy gopher guts.
- anatomically correct Barbie dolls, mentally challenging.

Salt of the earth, pillars in the house
of my god, who has sons
and daughters, stories abound, certainly -- bound by something,

some herding instinct near the mean path of least resistance.

Armed with 2023 word processing technology,
we confess to stretching the vernacular idiolect past positive
resistance to the polar opposites being the most sublime
iteration of our situation, see,
I am wind, and you are water, and, oh, oh, no,
yeh way cool, heat rises, join me, be yourself, no problem

cloudy skies are good things in July.
After an online tour of the Pergamos Alter, the tool religion is, marvelous,
make us all imagine, somewhere, in all the chaos, order rules, we have the ruins to prove it.
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
the lies we tell ourselves are
   part of our consciousness
globules of satan's blood drip
   into our souls
birdy Jun 2022
The devil is knockin'
cracking up whilst you're talking
all your words are gettin' slurred
too bad your pleas of mercy shall not be heard

You'll pay for all the hurt
you'll sink down in the dirt

"Curse you devil!"

down with you
down to the herd
of all the other evils hell bears
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