Trading with the devil

Now I wish to trade my soul with the devil-
the guilt-conscious God of the raging presence.
At least he would  give me a fair frigging deal,
he would weigh all my sins to let me know what I truly deserve.

Endless excuses crept through my veins of rushing blood
every time I detached from the plans of today and tomorrow.
Oh lovely friends and lovers, I’m not sorry that I’m shallow.
I’m just a misfit seeking deliverance for the chances I missed.

I wish I stayed up with the thunder and clouds
and drenched myself in the 2 a.m drizzle of barren time.
The terrace we sat at and the clouds we looked up at
are nothing but traces of useless existence left out to bother us all.

Yes I’m funny, but the corners of my lips carry the burden of lies
which were audaciously misused to let all my lovers and friends smile.
Ah! the sins are piled up now and the walls are closing in
while the knob-less doors cage me inside my own little cautious prison.

The key to which is not in the hands of the guard,
but it is with the devil who found me off my guard.
I know he is listening through the pine wood door
to the tone of my confessions with his bloodshot ears.
I know his eyes are widened with a curious smirk
while I rant out the faults of my smug-felt existence.

He offered to throw the key of liberation
through the rusty ironic windows of now.
He asked for my soul that is weary and weak
to link between the key chain and key.
He knew that the key would eventually be lost somewhere
as the link dangled with itself and all its different parts.
Without a soul, without a key and without a heart,
he knew I would call him again to buy my desolate soul back.

The loner’s rusty cage

The soothing sound of the loner’s voice was nowhere to be heard
deprived of regrets and sorrow which he left aloof as choice.
He bore no burden of the possibilities he missed as it seemed fit;
sinfully proud and happy was this sensitive and lovable misfit.

He was scared yet pushed along with possibilities of love
that fed his heart and mind with an urge to give up on life.
Every time he left his past behind running away and fast,
he saw the very essence of him fade away to the distant light.

Godspeed wishes from the least expected folks
felt like curses that are too shameful to carry a veil.
The speed reached a crescendo and left him in tears
as he looked back through their mirrored reflection of the past
to cherish the long gone time turn into fade-away dusts.
No meaning, no reason and no sense to it all,
he promised himself that he would fight against the lovers’ call.

Friends, lovers, siblings and luring enemies of blood
were all lovers of his loneliness and his gruesome part in the world.
Let his voice be cranky and let his worries be heard.
The cage he built for himself are too weak to hold his shattered parts.
If he had a chance to survive as a loner behind the rusty imaginary bars.
He would grow a rash when rested on the iron to leave him with scars.