Skip to main content

Lucifer’s poetry



And here, the devil comes
Thick darkness along his pathways
Flames followed and stench
Stars of demons bowed,
 Galaxy of beasts worshipped
Vast seas of dark forces trembled
Oceans of humans sang songs of agony

Lucifer: Don’t you get it
                                                                                Their pains is my gain
                                                                                Their constant misery is my sweet poetry

Oh, the devil himself
Grandmaster of native manipulation
Inventor of dainty deception
Bearer of slavery and chaos
‘First born of sin’
Commander in chief of battalions of principalities
Major General of evil spiritual high places

Upon the dark angels he walked
He walked in fierce magnificence
With his eyes shone thick dark-red
And his laughs were terrible as death itself
Hades worshipped, death prostrated
Sickness echoed his glory, famine spoke of his mightiness
War talked of his power, Misery declared his potentials

Lucifer: Don’t you get it
                                                                                Their pains is my gain
                                                                                Their constant misery is my sweet poetry

Former commander-in-chief of the celestial host
Satana, you are called
Because you went aside from the right way
Sheda, you are labeled
Because you were thrown out of the heavens
Daiwa, you are crowned
 Because you lost the apparel of your glory

Lucifer: Don’t you get it
                                                                                Their pains is my gain
                                                                                Their constant misery is my sweet poetry

O Lucifer, your thoughts in the minds of Men
To hate one another, to cheat each other
To quench that fire of love of their creator
And turn their hearts against the Saviour
Old serpent, how true is thy truth?
To deceive the father and destroy the sons
Or mystify the mother and massacre the daughters
Your mission statement forever-
To steal, to kill, and to destroy
Those glories in the image of the Creator

Lucifer: Don’t you get it
                                                                                Their pains is my gain
                                                                                Their constant misery is my sweet poetry

O Lucifer, the old light bearer
Blind their hearts; cover their eyes
Make them see, but see not the hidden truth
Speak many words, but ignore that word of truth
Tell them what they want to hear
Not what they need to know
Make them believe but believe not the truth
For you have come, that they may have misery
And have it, in abundance
Lucifer: Don’t you get it
                                                                                Their pains is my gain
                                                                                Their constant misery is my sweet poetry

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To the Lady, Ifeoluwa

 To the lady, Ifeoluwa To the lady with the sweetest smiles and brownie eyes This was never meant to be written It was meant to be words of love Passionately pouring into your bloodstream Traveling steadily down the planes of your nerves Flowing into every corners in your heart It was meant to take you and take you over To break your guards and open chapters of love in your heart To the lady with the sweetest voice and cutest pitch This was never meant to be a poem It was meant to sweep you off your feet and make your heart skip a beat It was meant to be torrents of emotional words Filling every space within your world Touching all the glittering spot of your sweet soul Bringing you into life of love where two hearts beat as one Luring you into a blissful world of ecstatic devoid of fantasy   To this lady with a soft soul and a fine feet This was never meant to be written in letters It was meant to be engraved withi...
Post a Comment
Read more

Tribute

Tribute to Nigerians Who lived to fight But died at bullets sight For justice, for equity For change, for betterment Tribute to Nigerians Whose smiles suffer them And their cries are never heard Who suffers for daily bread While deep inside, they bleed Tribute to Nigerians Who wake up early to sleep late Hawking for bread, hustling in stress Working, but worked out Striving, but starved to death Tribute to Nigerians Who did not place religion above man But place man above religion Who are their brother’s keeper Who honours the difference in others Tribute to Nigerians Whose friends betrayed and colleagues dismayed In prisons and cell blocks for no offense Praying yet; yet prayed for their foes Men of valour, buried without honour Tribute to Nigerians Who saw political fraudsters and liars And were brave enough to stand their feet Not corrupt by lies, not swayed by bribes Who in t...
1 comment
Read more

After school: solution or problem

Picture the life you want to live when you get out of school. The job you want to take, the family you want to raise; the kind of house you want to buy and build; the exotic cars you want to own. Holidays and resorts places you want to go. Picture life after school and think of how now, you have worked smart to get there. Can you get to that outside dreamed pictures of yours? Can you really be what you imagined in that few years to come? Have you truly earned it? But paramount of all, do you want to join what the realist call the labour market or what the religious optimist call the favour market? Whatever you call it here, the reality and figures out there prove something spectacular- the solutions you create now are the master keys that open your desired imaginations. It is one thing to have a degree and swallow a first class but the outside world is more than heaps of certificates because millions in the labour market have same or better qualifications. It is not even the con...
Post a Comment
Read more