My Beloved Antichrist

Raised off tales of a biblical nature, I had always been warned, About a particular creature, The devil bound to human flesh, To bring us destruction, To bring us death, He will speak the truth, In a way that lies, The false prophet deems, The end of time, They could sense him lurking, Somewhere around me, A wolf in sheep’s clothing, It was all make believe, Yet somehow those stories, All related to me, Not in the egotistical sense, For this realization, Was not based in entitlement, But through correlations, Throughout my experience, For I have met the man that they described, So many times throughout my life, When I recall my most recent encounter, It makes the comparison, Even clearer, For I ripped of his sheepskin, To see beneath, And stared down the demon, I found underneath, Yet something was different, This time around, For within his howl, Was a familiar sound, I had definitely seen, The same wolf before this, Different coloured sheep skins, But all the same voices, A sickening sensation, Creeps up inside of me, What if those stories, Weren’t about belief? What if the reality, Was just a bit more, What if the bible, Was just a metaphor? What if God and the Devil, Are both just men, Vying for possession, Of a beautiful woman, A wager between friends, Which method is efficient, A way to raise the stakes, Add some friendly competition, “You have got to seduce her” Said the devil to the other, “Or getting her to stick around, Is going to be much harder.” “Such a ridiculous notion!” God laughs uproariously, “For pursuing women, Is all about authority.” The female of course, The object of their attention, Her dreams, her desires, Are considered irrelevant, As the ego of man, Shows both its faces, In a debate to decide, To manipulate or debase her… But should the metaphor hold true, I know the identity of the wolf, For words from his lips, Are lies within truths, But it leaves me at a loss, Of what to do, For when I saw hell’s fire shine, I thought it was the twinkle in his eye, How could I possibly face the obvious? That the man I call father, Is my beloved antichrist.