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.