David Glines Poet Ballad

Lucifer

i met lucifer walking back
to my head this morning,
he was shaking the hand
of the sun in the morning,
his hands red-stained
of child's blood.

i asked him "why?"
"because i shouldn't have"
i asked him "why?"
"because they wanted me not to"
i asked him "why?" 
"because they have no life"
i asked him "why?"
"because their life is my life"
i asked him "why?"
"because the rules of the weak
are food for the strong, 
because it covers them"
i asked him "why?"
"because those dead are closer 
to life than those living"
i asked him,
his hands
wet with red,
"why?"
"because all that's good 
wants to keep you static"
i asked him "why evil?"
"because change is necessary,
revolution, digestion, destruction"
i asked him "give me life"
he said, his hands dripping red,
"it is taken."

the hole in my belly
that my soul had filled
is as wet with red
as i watch the sun rise
on the death of my death.

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