Devil May Talk

A man sitting on a bench,
An angel on his shoulder/And a little devil on the other
Was waiting for the past to take him back,
Where he knew how things would end

Angel frowned upon this decision
Urging the man to come to reason
His troubles should be put to a rest
For from them he’d learn to be his best

Devil laughed, fawned and preyed on
Whispering no need was to go on
Cajoling the man had deserved his rest
Maybe the past would grant his request

The man conflicted with those voices
Wasn’t sure to like any of those choices
Maybe the devil would win his soul
What if once again he was the fool?

Always listening to the Angel, isn’t it tipping the scales?
And while his body became the field of a Manichean fight
Old powers playing with wrong and right
Sitting on a bench, the man just waited for his past

And while the man waited for so long
Devil laughed and continued his song
For he knew he had already won
The soul of he who refused to go on

Well, Lord, Devil may talk, we might listen
For what he offers glistens more than often
As for the man, his wish was true in becoming
For in waiting,
Past became present in the act of not living


~ Val.

(photo credit: Christopher See Hoye)