The Devil’s True Name

How you describe insanity

How you describe evil

How you describe monsters

To not to be considered among the ‘Devils’;

How much someone should be civil?

How you describe bad omen

How you spot a witch

How you bully someone

How you look, How you pick

How you burn people

How you burn books

How you massacre innocent

How you sleep in the night

Do the mirror show you

Or how without your social mask you look

I wonder on human,

Who only see flesh, not soul

Who only see their part

And decide in others what’s wrong

I’m not angry at people but at the devil

Who has influenced so many to taste the blood

I’m not banishing their reasons or their belief

Just asking, what about the reality from the devil they’ve heard

People find the devil in flesh, colour, books

I see it in someone’s eyes

In the one who doesn’t blink nor shakes

Killing million just to feel light

Like it’s only blood and screams he tastes

Who is the devil? What’s his real name?

What with false reasons and chants of holiness he tries to conceive?

Is he humane? Some would say yes

‘Possess’ a priest might say

I would say ‘he’s accepted and perceived’

He’s a poster, we just dress our reasons with his name

Give it a name, sketch or references

Prayers won’t stop humans unless get hit by a big book

As the devil was once a shadow but now the shadow have a face

So should you pick up a gun then, some grenades too?
Shiver for the first time;
Then kill him with his bullets before he will speak;

“I’m not the devil, I’m killing those who are in disbelieves
I’m a servant, I can’t ignore his command

He gave me a gun, I’m cleaning, cleaning for a shrine, like a mop”

How one can argue with such minds

When the fight they’re fighting is so “Divine”

How to free the homes from such insights

How to free the sons from his name

Innocent can’t save their children as they were being taken

A mother once described the devil that took her son:

‘I tried to kill the devil with a gun;

He incarnated again as I pulled the trigger

He’s still here, somewhere, in the mirror,

In the corner, I see his smile by his bloodstains’,

She said with disgust and horror on her sweating face

Were the corners of the world dark before, before the devil came?

Were the walls less painted with blood and scratches?

Was there’s light, shine in the killing, exploiting under ‘Power’ name?

Is god to a name used, as the devil is the name they say?

It looks more of a justification of their homemade craze

I see no soil today but bullet shells with dried blood

And mask of human dried with bloodstains

They may blame the devil, I know where the devil stood

As it has flesh, eyes, and mind without a soul casting the dark shadow

You may try to spot the devil by horns but he’s not alike what holy books says.

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