I Am Not the Devil But I Bring Hell

The Boy’s the Prayer 


The smile his chapped lips tried to keep

Was not supposed to last so long…

For years and years, he swallowed tears

Until one night, he said: “No more.”



“In heaven you are born

Maker of the underworld

In hell you burn

In hell’s your throne


The god of fire

Bringer of light

Black is your color

You king of the night!


I’m calling you, now

So answer my prayers

Because the Good One

He never listens.



Justice walks with the devil!”


Mephisto’s Monologue



“Last time I walked this earth, things were different.

Now, the news spreads quickly and that might work against me.

Yet again, I never walked as a man;

That’s why I’m tempted.


You summon me now and ask for my help.

You offer me not just your soul but your body as well.

Vengeance, I suppose. I assume you want revenge,

Yearning for a thousand souls to burn with you in hell…


You must love me, boy

Or you must hate them all

To bless me with this gift

And curse them and yourself, forevermore.”



“The world is not beautiful, nor is the universe, nor is man.

Imperfection is everywhere – it permeates; man!

Everything is flawed, lacking, pretty darn defective.

But the Good Almighty King saw that it was good!


Tell me, son,

What’s so satisfying about this blue tomato?

And what of the big black mysterious balloon?

And the naked monkey who claims to be wise?


There was work to be done on the seventh day,

Believe me,

But what a procrastinator is your creator!

For instead he went to rest;

Tell me, how can he be the best?

Most of the good things are man-made.



“But!” They say, those of faith, blindly

The Great One knows, unquestionably

Surely, He must have a plan!

It’s a sin to think that He made a mistake.


Wait! No!

I’ll tell you what a sin is, priest!

I say…


Man is God’s sin.



“Tell me,

Why should you be laughed at and kicked around?

And some pity you. “Poor you!” they say.

Say, when’s the last time they’ve offered you help?

Boy, like a dog, they shooed you away.


I’m glad, however, that you’re now aware

To make them suffer is only fair.

I am, boy, the one who cares

Maybe evil but your only friend –


Oh, I tell you, my boy

This is going to be fun.

Just wait and see…

(Oh, the nostalgia. Ey, Faustus?)



Justice walks with the devil!

So, what have we got to settle?”




Something Evil Is On Its Way



It was just another night on Hamra Street,

But things were about to change, alright!

Death! Hell! Fire and flames!

The Devil wants to play a game.


Boys and girls were at the bars

Successful men sucking cigars

What a life! Look at those stars!

Fun, eh? And classy cars.


“So, come inside; and drink and dance!”

“Live your life, man. This is your chance.”

“I’m so glad to be here with all my friends.”

“I wish this fine night never ends.”



There was a stench now on Hamra Street

The smell of sulfur and of something sweet

Death! Hell! Fire and flames!

The Devil wants to play a game.


The ground shook, the music stopped

and the lights were out…

There was silence, and now it was dark

Something cold and wicked laughed.


The sinister cackle echoed in the street;

Evil in the atmosphere…


Hell! Death!

Justice walks with




Meanwhile, (screeching sounds)

Silver-black rats from hell

With red, hellish eyes

Were digging their way up

To feast on –





Fire! Fire!

The world’s on fire!



The street, now, was swarming with rats and fiends;

Beasts and demons and other gruesome creatures.

People squealing! Begging! Crying for mercy!

Screams filled the air.


“No! Please! No!”

“My eyes! My eyes!”

“Oh, God!”

“Don’t kill me, pleasedontkillme!”


And the poor boy who wanted revenge,

Now possessed by the devil,

Was laughing,

And his cold and wicked laughter echoed.



Robert who had once laughed at a boy

A poor boy selling roses,

Ran until he tripped and fell.

A hairless, pig-faced, apelike creature (spider legs for fingers)

Came snorting, sniggering

Plucked Robert’s eyeballs out

And heartily chewed on them…



Sarah who had once pitied a boy

A poor boy selling roses,

Was tangled up, caught in a spider web.

Something bit her between her thighs

And ate its way inside her.

Screams of pain, but more rats came

And ate her from the inside.



“I am not the devil,”

The boy said to the good man,

“But I bring hell.”



Morning came and the boy woke up

As if from a vivid dream.

He found himself in nature,

In his mother’s womb,

Next to the river, Nahr Ibrahim

A boar killed the god of love and beauty here…

Blood in the river!

The boy was thirsty.

He drank from the river and the river was dry.

Author: Chris K.

There must be a little art in everything I create, even if my creation is as cold as a machine and follows empirical data.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s