Hello darlings. My first piece of Supernatural fiction. A poem from a demon's perspective. Despite the title, I didn't have Crowley in mind while writing this. Please leave a review, it will be most welcomed. Over and out.
Dealing with a Crossroad King
The thing about man
Is that he can't understand
To make it count
I once met a bloke, a fellow, a guy
With a weird twitching in his right eye
He asked for something that night in September
What it was, I cannot remember
His wish wasn't special, just a routine
A straw of grass, in a field of green
Money or fame or something like that
Nothing to which I can tip my hat
The thing about man
Is that he can't understand
There is a price
A girl was drunk with wishes
Eager for my kisses
She hadn't read the text in size so small
Scribbled fast her signature - last name and all
Smile on her face, she kissed me with passion
Then drove of for a life in lux and fashion
But in this world, nothing is free
Now she's wrapped in chains, where she's supposed to be
The thing about man
Is that he can't understand
There's no way out
An old man will to me, always stand out
He was so in love with God, so completely devout
With Bible in hand and crucifix in the other
He wanted to guide his people, both sister and brother
I made him a priest with church and choir
Until the dogs came and with them, Hell's fire
"But I am Messiah!" he cried as he backed
"No," I replied, "You're a man with a contract"
The thing about man
Is that he can't understand
The price is high
The terror of barks and scratching on the doors
The fear when salt is of no use anymore
Claw marks and blood, but more terrible is it to tell
Of when you stand in front of the Gate to Hell
You will here be tortured, into a demon you will grow
You may not believe me, but trust me, I know
For I was once a man
Who couldn't understand