Point
of Law.
Today
I'm sure I met with the devil.
Not
because I saw it in his eyes,
How
far he pushed the sense of truth,
To
a far out reality so full of lies.
Rather
because of less subtle clues,
Mannerisms
learnt on the road to success.
A
tidy haircut styled in Oxbridge salons,
Pinstriped
suit pressed, boy he knew how to dress.
Decidedly
driven and a way to compel one,
The
finesse of breeding composed to a tee.
The
fellow before me gauged in a smile,
I
sensed now my soul would never be free.
Drawn
into his spell under formal duress,
I'd
lost a moment to panic, holding my breath.
His
eyes began to burn all the way though,
And
I knew almost sweetly, the day of my death.
Like
nothing before had ever been more real,
The
attraction intensified to sell him my soul.
Exquisite
the feeling of betrayal to my being,
As
I began to be roasted, over hot coal.
Stoking
the furnace he laughed in my face,
I
saw pleasure in evil calling my name.
Filled
with maniacal delight to burn me alive,
Was
somehow respectful to winning his game.
And
still it gave witness to being divine,
The
courage to taunt virtue, good over bad.
Filled
the face of this almost stranger,
Stealing
every ounce of decency, I ever had.
Then
the judge slammed down his Gavel,
To
put silence and fear into his court.
He
bellowed out his shameful and final verdict,
This
point of law is, for what I'd fought.
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