The Language of the Second Leg and the Devil

The Language of the Second Leg and the devil In the second leg, We, the four poets with one deleted Agree to watch every word by our poet on duty But stride to the requisite journey So we must walk with our backs facing the front Our ears infested with curiosity Soon we lose the e..echoes..e.. coz echoes ebb And so we lose the poet too But we allot one laureate to wait In a rhyme, this time The third leg is nigh Where I and the couplet must go on This time into darkness, where we know where we come from But not where we go; so we code the ghosts we court Sinister symbols, now demonic satire Nothing new, beyond the few I knew For darkness is gold to the devil, And only the poets know it They know the devil cries; he fears death Little wander he has not died; yet mortals who die never return If I kill you, you will die; Die in a fashion, you will live to remember Since sugar levels die, Even libido dies - So I speak in a language that only I and the devil understand But the devil has crater ears; watch National Geographic (Magma is the ****** of the devil) So, I leave one audit poet to play peekaboo With Lucifer; breaking ice with imps (This is the 3rd 4th and 5th stanzas of a long poem titled: The uselessness of Poetry)