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Christian Hardy | + Follow Poet |
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The True Devil

Eyes of a trader 
With words of wisdom
You make destruction look so good
You don't use force
But the beauty and cursive of your words is tantalizing 

You can make dreams come true
But what they don't realize is your true intentions are very much cruel
Your like a rock that has been painted gold
You look pretty and real on the outside 
But once someone cracks you open 
They realize just how dark, cold, and worthless you really are

But you don't fool me
With that toothy grin 
That cunning smile
Like a snake waiting to strike its next prey

He gives you just enough to keep you coming back for more
Having mistaken your curses for blessings 
Praying for gold instead of glory
Riches instead of righteousness 

Allowing your mind to grow smaller
Being carnal minded
Your flesh stinks of indecency and willfulness 
You make a mockery of his words

We were supposed to be the chosen ones
But instead we dirty his floors with our muddy feet 
Then we wonder why we're hanging from trees
Like the ornaments we hang on that dreadful Christmas holiday 
Used for target practice by those who are supposed to protect us

We wonder why we can't rise to the top no matter how hard we work
WE ARE CURSED!
And the only people we can blame is ourselves 
We are dirty 
Refusing to bathe
We reek of sin 
Like an alcoholic 
Drowning in Gin

We are killing each other without even using weapons 
Men the call themselves preachers 
They don't deserve to be watchmen 
They would be better at being hit men 
Because of all the lives they are consuming with their ignorance 

You try to warn them before it's too late
But they refuse to listen
Calling you a liar?
Their ears plugged with thick wax
So much so that they can't hear
Refuse to hear

So?
Who is the real devil?
You may ask?
It's US!

Copyright © Christian Hardy | Year Posted 2023

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