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Jieun Feb 2020
I look at God's stories and teachings
and I always keep on reading
"satan is the devil"
"he's the purest form of evil"
but i wonder, what if maybe
he was just misunderstood.
what if he never wanted for things to go wrong
and he had just made a mistake
What if the reason was he was just confused all along
and he ended up in this kind of fate..
I'm not saying we should believe in his wicked words
or follow his evil doings
but what if he just needed a prayer
for him to revert back and be accepted again by our Father
if we kept praying for sinners..
and we keep praying for souls to be saved
why can't we pray for him?
a fallen angel...who also needs to be prayed?
my fellow catholics, please don't attack me T^T
MisfitOfSociety Feb 2020
Owning up to the fact that I cast a shadow.
One that seems to have no end.
Hiding just behind me.
Mechanisms to keep it out of view.
Catch it in the act before it gets past you.

Turn your back to your devil,
And you will see the shadow that it casts.
The reach of its shadow,
Grows larger the longer you hide,
Until all you can see is darkness.
Our devil figure,
Reflects in another.
The Archenemy,
Is buried inside me.

We are our own devil,
And make everyone else our devil.

I cast my devil onto you,
And now you are my devil too.

Your archenemy,
Don’t push that onto me.

Your misery,
Don’t make it mine too.

Your elegy,
See that the devil is you.

Own up to the dark.
Amend yourself.
Catch your devil out in the open,
Trying to make an enemy out of someone.
Blameless, you believe,
You hide the shadow beneath your feet.
Unveil the creature,
Walk through it,
Until it is not your devil anymore.
Shyanne Feb 2020
What’s that sound?
Explosions.
Friendly fire.
Silence.
What’s that smell?
Why am I sticky?
Flightless birds.
Dead parents.
War!
What is it good for?
Exactly what you’d expect.
God.
Shiny objects.
The American Dream.
The Devil himself.
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
He proffered his gloved hand filled with guarantee
His blue eyes flickered greedily like the swirling of the sea
His hair was dark and soft, as if of silken twine
His crocodile smile beckoned, "your soul it will be mine"

His arms and legs bent to and fro, waving impossibly
I could smell his want burning my nose ever so pungently
His deal, he swore, "Was better than any I'd ever know"
He towered over, leaning forth, his wickedness did grow

A red bowtie, two-button suit, his clothes immaculate
I stared at him, wondering, too much time to contemplate
And in the end, I shook his hand, my resistance was futile
Each of us has fallen for a dark reptilian smile
This poem was my parallel between a deal with the devil and the deal we make with ourselves each time we say we won't do something again.  Each of us has struggled with something in our lives that we wish we could stop.  I hope that one day each of us won't shake hands with the weakest part of ourselves
AMISHA Feb 2020
He said he'd take me to the
Next big city in sight
“Just cling on to my arm
It will all be alright.”

& carefully as ever he
Whispered in my ear
He'd chase away my
deepest, darkest fears.

Because he knew of my love for art
“So the great Louvre is where we'd start”
“We'll watch the sunset on Parisian streets.
And hike together on
The great canyon steeps.”

“And how about a skinny dip under
the sparkling moon?”
“It's all good with me. I'm
not leaving anytime soon.”

“Want to roll on the sandy dunes,
If I might ask?”
“Only as long as you'd show me
the snow too, as we pass.”

I mumbled, “I can't compete with
the Kashmiri girls.”
He raised a brow, “the Diamond has no fear of pearls.”

& by evening we layed
Below the Eiffel lights
Our hearts tangled together
Like two wild kites.

“So is this all ?” I asked
under my breath
“We'll start again tomorrow, I'm with you
till Death.”

I passed a smirk and rolled my eyes
and turned my head back up to the skies.
Our hands adjacent; an inch apart.
His eyes on my face as if it's Art.

Then drunk on my life
I stumbled and slipped in bed
He read me a poem;
landed a kiss on my head.

Passed out I stuttered
“Today was too good be true”
A wicked curve on the devil's lips
“But my dearest, so are you.”

A.S.
Feel free to share your thoughts.
With the end coming,
You can taste the bittersweet love
Of the Angel's blood that is in the Air

We all see the blood that is on the ground,
Both Human, Angel, and Demon,
with the destruction of both heaven and hell and everything inbetween. It's all over now.
Peace escapes me,
immaculate I am not.
Demons plague the darkness,
no light can pierce the rot.

Tyranny needs a foothold
and my soul wholly provided.
All that is left is me,
For I am the Devil in the White City
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